Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2)

by Brian W. Foster

  “She wants to take over the three kingdoms!”

  “And who’s to say she wouldn’t be a fine ruler?” Tasia said. “I have to at least give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “And if she turns out to be a horror?” Lainey said.

  Tasia frowned. “Then it will be my responsibility to do something about her.”

  11.

  Xan eased the pain in his aching feet.

  Even given a slow pace and the ability to heal one’s self, three full days of walking was tough on the soles. He never thought he’d miss Honey. Of course, few people in the camp had a horse, so his would have been better utilized pulling a wagon than carrying him.

  Or he probably would have put Honey to use transporting Mrs. Blake, who, you know, had just given birth.

  He shuddered, not quite believing he’d delivered a baby. Someone had actually allowed him to do such a thing. Had, in fact, asked him to do it. With no midwives in the group, there was no one else who had any medical knowledge.

  And after a hard night that hadn’t ended until the wee hours, he, the mother, and the newborn had been expected to get up and move with the rest of them. When Mrs. Blake didn’t so much as grumble, Xan didn’t exactly have a choice but to go along. A tough group, those farmers and woodsmen.

  They had, however, stopped walking in the early afternoon in consideration of the new mother, and Xan planned on getting to sleep as soon as he was able. All in all, he couldn’t complain too much, considering he was alive and no longer locked in a tower. People in the group respected him and were friendly. Best of all, they’d not encountered any soldiers since they’d moved on.

  Maybe that meant the duke had given up looking, though Xan doubted he was that lucky. He hated that his only real defense against being found was being a nameless, faceless part of a crowd. Hardly seemed like a sufficient plan for avoiding death, but there was nothing he could do about it.

  Xan stowed the meager belongings he’d collected. The knife Bar had given him, though useful for cutting herbs, was no longer his prize possession. Two new families had joined the group, and one had traded a mortar and pestle for his treating a few minor ailments. He’d even scavenged two glass bottles from an old farmhouse. Not exactly an apothecary shop but a start.

  As he walked toward the Stout’s camp, a surge of magic to the southwest caught his attention. Asherton. He’d been sensing more and more usage there over the last couple of days. Duke Asher was obviously busy recruiting.

  Xan winced at the thought of mages, including his friends, serving the nobility as little more than slaves. Someone should create a place where magic users would be free.

  Who would do that, though? Certainly not him. He’d tried to wield influence, and all it had gotten him was pain and isolation.

  Hiding was his best bet.

  “Care to join me for some fishing?” Hosea said.

  Their campsite for the evening was near a pond, and many of the men were replenishing their stores of meat. Unfortunately, Xan couldn’t think of an activity he hated worse. “I’d love to, but I really must rebuild my store of herbs. Might Marco want to gather some with me?”

  Marco looked up from peeling a rutabaga with hope in his eyes.

  “I don’t know.” Hosea winked at Xan. “He’s such a burden. I reckon he’s more likely to crush a plant than find one.”

  Xan shrugged. “You’re right on that account, but I find it useful to have someone to carry my supplies. Maybe Dea would be a better choice? She can’t carry as much, but her tiny feet don’t do as much damage either.”

  Marco stuck out his tongue at Xan.

  Hosea laughed. “Go, then, but be back by supper.”

  Xan and Marco slipped into the woods, and after a short while, Xan pointed to a small tree. “What kind is that?”

  “I know this one! Vary … vary … something.”

  “Variegation,” Xan said. “And what is it used for?”

  “Uh … wait, I’ve got it. It’s like coffee.”

  “Very good. Its bark is a mild stimulant, and we could definitely use some of that.” Much in the way Master Rae had showed him, Xan demonstrated how to remove a fine layer off the tree.

  “That’s all you’re taking?” Marco said. “If we need it, why not more?”

  Xan smiled, remembering asking the same question all those years ago. “Taking more risks killing the tree. Do you think we should?”

  Marco frowned and thought a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t seem right to kill it.”

  “Exactly,” Xan said. “If our need were dire, maybe, but the best practice is to leave the plant healthy. That way, the next time you or another apothecary returns, you can get more.”

  In a similar manner, they gathered temwort and greyheart flowers. Xan was hoping to find valerian, though. “Do you enjoy gathering herbs and using them to help people?”

  Marco thought a while before answering. “I always figured I’d follow my pa into farming. I like farming.”

  The boy was quite perceptive.

  “And he’ll need my help starting over from scratch when we find a new place,” Marco said. “But Frae would have died if not for you, wouldn’t she?”

  Xan nodded.

  “And everyone listens when you talk,” Marco said.

  “Everyone listens when your father talks, too. Respect isn’t about occupation.”

  Marco considered for a moment before nodding.

  “Once things settle down,” Xan said, “I hope to find a nice town somewhere and set up a shop. What would you think about becoming my apprentice.”

  Marco frowned. “I reckon I’d have to talk it over with pa.” He hesitated. “It’d sure be hard to leave him.”

  Xan was pretty sure Hosea would bless the contract. Every parent wanted the best for their children, and an apothecary’s earning potential far exceeded a farmer’s. Besides, Xan would be quite generous as far as the terms went.

  Maybe that life was exactly what Xan needed. Settle down. Find a wife. As an apothecary in a new town, he’d be a great match for almost any girl. She wouldn’t be Tasia or Ashley, but who was? And he was done going after unattainable girls.

  He’d blend into the scenery and let events in the three kingdoms play out without drawing notice to himself. After all, whether Queen Anna or King Barius ruled Bermau made little difference to him.

  Well, until Barius enslaved everyone and killed all the mages, and to be honest, Anna likely had little chance of standing up to Dastanar without Xan’s help. But still, none of that was his concern. His friends could fight or not fight. He’d abandon them just as they’d abandoned him. The duke and the queen could handle the invasion.

  If Xan had a regret—and he most certainly didn’t—it was that he couldn’t protect Tasia from what was to come. She was the only one who had even remotely been there for him when he needed her.

  But what good could he do anyway?

  No. Hiding was definitely the right call. No more dealing with awful nobles and getting thrown in jail for his troubles.

  “How much farther are we going?” Marco said.

  As Xan had been lost in thought, the sun had sunk low on the horizon. “Oops. Better head back now if I’m going to have you home for supper.”

  They turned and began the trek back to the camp. Since they were no longer on the lookout for herbs and not stopping to gather any, the hike went quickly. When they pulled to within a few score yards, though, Xan noticed that the camp was quiet.

  Too quiet.

  He put a finger to his mouth and enhanced the sounds coming from that direction. A man was talking, ordering the people rounded up into a line.

  After motioning for Marco to stay put, Xan crept forward to the top of a rise but couldn’t see what was happening due to all the tree branches in his way. Lots of angry, barked orders came from below.

  He had to know. A quick kinetic burst cleared the limbs momentarily from view.

  Blue-and-gold-liveri
ed soldiers had the group surrounded.

  12.

  Xan’s heart leapt to his throat.

  Moving the tree limbs had made too much noise. One of the duke’s soldiers turned his head toward the top of the rise.

  Xan dove to the ground, crashing into low bushes. He groaned. No way they hadn’t noticed both the motion and the sound.

  The soldiers likely posed the group no threat, but Xan would be recognized on sight and executed. His only choice would be to use magic, drawing the attention of every mage in the three kingdoms.

  Footsteps sounded beside him, and he darted his eyes toward the noise. Marco.

  “Weeks, Lamb, investigate!” a voice from the camp below yelled.

  Not much time. Xan had to do something. But what?

  “If’n you go down there,” Marco whispered, “the captain’ll just check your face then let you be.”

  “I can’t,” Xan said in a low voice.

  “You … you’re …”

  Xan nodded, though he hated to confirm the boy’s suspicion.

  A puzzled look flashed across Marco’s face before settling into a disappointed, resigned expression.

  Enhancing sound energy revealed two soldiers climbing the hill, one to each side of Xan. He’d never get away clean.

  “I reckon I best get down there.” Marco raised his hands above his head and waded into dense brush covering the top of the hill’s slope.

  “Wait!” Xan shouted in a harsh whisper.

  The boy didn’t stop. He’d be arrested. Killed. Certainly, the soldiers would …

  Wait. Actually, the boy would be fine. They weren’t after him. Good. That removed a piece of potential collateral damage. He’d tell the captain about Xan and might even get a reward for it.

  “Captain!” Marco yelled.

  Xan tensed. Time for him to either run or … fight. His only choice, really. He just hoped he didn’t have to kill anyone.

  “Halt!” the voice yelled.

  “It’s just me,” Marco said.

  “Boy? Boy, what are you doing up there.”

  “Getting herbs.”

  “Are you alone?”

  There was a pause that seemed to last forever.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Stay there!”

  Orders were barked, followed by lots of crashing through bushes, and Marco was escorted down the hill. No one came near Xan.

  He enhanced the sound and listened as Marco stumbled through an explanation about going out with an apothecary to collect herbs. Xan’s breath caught. He didn’t think he’d ever mentioned his profession to the duke, and the fact wasn’t widely known. If the army knew, however, just the mention would be enough to arouse suspicion.

  “And this apothecary you were with?” the captain said. “Where is he?”

  “I reckon he’s still looking for the va … valer … Sorry, sir,” Marco said. “I know it’s valer-something.”

  “Valerian,” another voice supplied. “And his basket has variegation bark and temwort. A farmer kid wouldn’t know what this stuff was or how to collect it. He’s telling the truth, sir.”

  “That may explain them being away from camp,” the captain said, “but why did the boy return without the man?”

  “I … um …” Marco said.

  “If’n I may, sir?” Hosea said. “I reckon the boy was just doing as I told him, coming back before supper. If’n Basil wanted to hunt some more, I don’t see why he wouldn’t of sent the boy back.”

  “Basil?” the captain said.

  “He joined our group several days back. An apothecary, sir, as my boy said.”

  “And this Basil,” the captain said, “he had no injuries?”

  “No, sir,” Hosea said. “I reckon my boy could help you look for him if’n you want.”

  Xan closed his eyes. If they searched for him, things would get bad fast. He tensed, not knowing exactly what was happening as a moment passed where no one spoke.

  “That won’t be necessary,” the captain said finally. “Everything seems to be on the up and up, and we’ve got a dozen more camps like this one to search tonight.”

  And just like that, the soldiers mounted and rode out.

  Xan breathed a huge sigh of relief. That could have gone so, so badly. He stood and brushed himself off.

  Someone crashed through the brush on the way up the hill. Someone small. Marco.

  “Thank you for that,” Xan said, once the boy burst into the open.

  “I … I don’t reckon I can keep what you did from pa …”

  Xan nodded.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be telling him, then.” Marco turned to go back down to the camp.

  Xan wasn’t out of danger yet. “No, it’s my responsibility. I’ll do it.”

  * * *

  Xan gathered his thoughts.

  The group’s men stood before him. All looked curious why he’d called them together, but none seemed concerned.

  Xan was. He had a nearly perfect situation for hiding. They were steadily heading away from the duke’s territory, and once free of it, being ensconced in one of the countless clusters of anonymous refugees—one that had accepted him, even befriended him—would conceal him.

  He couldn’t stand the thought of having to start over from nothing.

  Stories and excuses ran through his mind, everything from a case of mistaken identity to being wrongfully accused by a noble who’d gotten mad when Xan wasn’t able to ease an incurable malady. But he stopped himself.

  These people had taken him in and treated him as one of them. He owed them more than lies. Neither, however, could he tell them the whole truth. “The duke’s soldiers are searching for me.”

  Bar took a step back. Kenton Duran, a wainwright, made the sign of the Holy One. Hosea pursed his lip.

  All in all, the reaction could have been worse. No one yelled at Xan. Yet.

  “What fer?” Buck said.

  Xan grimaced. “I can’t tell you.”

  “I reckon you mean you won’t tell us,” Hosea said.

  Xan had expected resistance, maybe even to be kicked out of the group. Possibly turned over to the soldiers. He hadn’t expected that pushback to come from Hosea.

  “I didn’t rob anyone,” Xan said. “No rape. No murder.”

  He’d killed, but defense of the city in battle couldn’t be considered murder.

  “If’n you want to stay with us,” Hosea said, “we’re gonna need more than that.”

  Xan sighed. “I wish I could tell you I’m blameless, but the fact is there are situations I could have handled better.” He shrugged, resigned. “I made some very important people quite angry with me, but everything I did, I believed to be the absolute morally and ethically right move at the time I did it.”

  “Like maybe you were a soldier, and you didn’t do what you were told?” Buck said.

  Xan frowned. Everyone would accept Buck’s conjecture with the slightest encouragement, but he owed them more than that. “Sorry, nothing that easy.” He paused. “Look, the important thing is that I’m not a danger to you or your families. I swear it. Neither do I believe my presence here will lead to danger for you or your families.”

  He hoped, anyway. As long as he could avoid using any detectable level of magic …

  “If’n we decide we want you to leave?” Hosea said. “Would you still not be a danger to us or ours?”

  “If that happens, I’ll be sorrowful for it,” Xan said, “but I will understand and accept your decision.”

  “And if’n we decide to turn you over to the good captain?” Hosea said.

  Xan drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honestly, I’d guess I’d have to accept that decision, too.”

  “I don’t like to gainsay you, Hosea,” Buck said, “but I don’t care what some noble somewhere says he done. I know what he done. Basil saved my Frae.”

  There were some nods at that, even a few grins.

  “Besides,” Buck said, “who among us ain�
��t run afoul of the nobles while they was young?”

  Even Kenton smiled at that one.

  “I’m not looking for trouble,” Xan said, “neither to find it or to make it. I just want to start over with a new life. Settle down somewhere and help sick people get better.”

  Hosea nodded slowly. “I reckon I agree with Buck. Everything I seen of you says you’re a good and honorable man, Basil.” He shrugged. “Besides, ‘tain’t up to me to do the nobles’ job for them.”

  Xan held back a wince. Tough being called “honorable” when lying about your name. And tough being called “good” when you’re willing to let the whole of the three kingdoms burn to save yourself.

  13.

  Xan pulled his blanket from a rag he’d fashioned into a crude backpack.

  Okay, so maybe calling the old, scratchy burlap sack he’d found in a barn a “blanket” was a stretch, but it kept him warm at night. Kind of. Well, not really, but it was better than nothing. Maybe.

  He carefully placed the bundled material on the ground and extracted his two jars. No cracks. Good. Though they’d been secured, jostling endangered the fragile glass with each step, and he’d been walking the entire day.

  “Basil?” a girl’s voice called from behind him.

  Xan reached deeper into the bag and removed his mortar and pestle. He was less worried about the heavy stoneware, but it, too, was pretty much irreplaceable. No damage to it, either.

  “Basil?” the voice said, louder.

  Oh right, that was him. He wished he could stop lying to people, but no use hoping for a day that was unlikely to ever come.

  “Yes?” he held the bag wide to let sunlight reach the inner creases.

  Though the variegation bark had gotten a bit crushed, its effectiveness wasn’t harmed, and none of his herbs were the worse for wear. His budding apothecary business had survived another day of travel.

  “If’n you’re not too busy,” the voice said, “I was wondering if’n you could come with me? You know, for protection?”

  Xan turned to find Frae staring at him, her hands clasped tightly together. “Where are you going?”