Sword of Power (The Black Musketeers Book 2)

by Oliver Pötzsch

  “Senno!” Lukas exclaimed.

  The astrologer appeared to have traveled a long way. His once-beautiful blue frock was torn and filthy, his otherwise-manicured beard unkempt. He was limping, supporting himself on a stick. When he saw Lukas and his friends, he waved and sat down to wait for them on a stone, a short distance below White Mountain.

  Lukas ran up excitedly to meet the astrologer. “Senno!” he exclaimed. “We thought you were dead. Drowned in the ocean, or buried somewhere deep underground.”

  “Ah, well, let’s say it wasn’t quite that bad, but nearly so.” Senno stroked his beard. “That terrible spell tossed me straight into the Bohemian Forest, a hundred dusty miles from here. I had to flee from a band of superstitious goatherds, after I appeared in their stinking hut. Then I rode like the Devil, got mixed up with a couple of robbers, and—”

  “Why weren’t you transported to Prague, like we were?” Giovanni broke in. The others had joined them now, and regarded the astrologer with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

  Senno shrugged. “I’m afraid Schönborn must have made that happen. Under the sole of my shoe, I found a piece of crossed lead, which disrupts magic of all sorts. That dog must have slipped it to me somehow, presumably through a messenger.” The astrologer glanced around at the four friends, and at the stretcher Gwendolyn was lying on. “At any rate, I’m delighted to find you all here alive,” he said, clapping the dust from his robe. “I really thought I was too late.”

  “And we were a hair’s breadth from leaving you nothing but our corpses to bury,” Jerome piped up. “Next time you want to help us defeat Schönborn, perhaps you should hurry a little.”

  “You certainly did show up at exactly the right moment to miss all the action,” Giovanni murmured. “One might almost think you waited until you were sure you wouldn’t get your hands dirty.”

  “When I was in the Bohemian Forest, I realized that all of this was just a trap of Schönborn’s. I saw the ominous constellation of stars that appeared in the firmament.” He pointed up to the morning sky, where the last few stars were just fading away. “When I figured out that it would be centered directly over White Mountain in a day or two, I feared the worst, so I hurried out here as fast as I could.”

  “Yes, yes, Mars in Leo,” Paulus muttered. “Thanks very much, Mister Astro-Driveler. We already know.”

  Senno sighed. “I’m afraid you’ve learned far more than that, right?” He glanced furtively at the handle of the imperial sword, which was poking out of the sack Paulus was holding. “Hm, I see you’ve actually found the Imperial Regalia.”

  “Only after we were duped by cheap counterfeits first,” Giovanni replied, grinning.

  “Counterfeits?” Senno tilted his head. “And who’s this little redhead?” He pounded the end of his hiking stick on the ground. “How about you start by telling me exactly what happened this past week?”

  “First, we’re going to bring this girl to a doctor,” Lukas replied, gesturing to Gwendolyn. “Then we’ll see.” He gave Senno a thin smile. “We spent days waiting for you in vain. You can be patient with us for an hour or two.”

  “One point for you, little warrior.” Senno lowered his head humbly, though Lukas suspected that he was grinning to himself. “Perhaps you all know an inn in Prague where we could have a tankard or two of ale,” he said. “All this traveling has made me murderously thirsty.”

  “Oh, yes, we know a tavern like that,” Paulus replied happily. Then he flinched and touched the lump on his forehead. “Ah, damn! Well, at least this time I know my headache won’t be from drinking too much.”

  A couple of hours later, they sat down together in the tavern of the Black Boar Inn, where their Prague adventure had begun scarcely a week ago. To Lukas, it seemed like a thousand years had passed since that day. The stuffed head of the wild boar stared down at them from its position above the bar, and the bearskins on the walls still smelled unpleasantly musty—but Lukas now felt somewhat at home here.

  The three pieces of Imperial Regalia lay on the table in front of them, between the tankards of dark ale Paulus had drained and a large platter of bread, sausage, and cheese. The crown had a slight dent, and there were a couple of new scratches on the sword handle, but besides that, nothing about the trio of sacred objects suggested that the friends had just wrenched them from the hands of a dark sorcerer.

  They’d told Senno everything that had happened to them over the past several days.

  “Hm, so we can be sure that these are real Regalia?” Senno asked with his mouth full, popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. His blue frock was still torn, but at least it was free of dust and dirt now, and his freshly oiled beard gleamed.

  “Our thief confirmed it earlier,” Giovanni replied, grinning. “They’re the originals. If anyone here can tell real diamonds from fakes, it’s Gwendolyn.”

  “Who’s doing better, by the way,” Paulus said, reaching for his tankard again. His head was bandaged, and his left arm was in a sling. “The doctor our astro-driveler so kindly paid for said he’d never seen anyone so cheerful after falling from a height of nearly five paces,” Paulus went on, grinning. “She hadn’t even broken anything. Good doctor, by the way. He actually thinks that beer has exceptional medicinal benefits—in small doses, of course.”

  “He probably didn’t know that you considered three tankards a small dose,” Lukas kidded him as his friend took another drink. He smiled, happy to hear Gwendolyn was going to be all right—but then he grew serious again. “If that golem hadn’t suddenly frozen in place, we probably all would have been done for. I still don’t understand why it just stopped moving. It was like a miracle.”

  “Hm . . .” Senno stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I don’t actually believe in miracles. I’m more inclined to say it was a spell.” He winked at Lukas. “Isn’t it possible that, in the end, magic was involved after all?”

  “Magic!” Giovanni smacked his forehead. “Of course. That’s the answer to this mystery. Lukas cast a spell. That’s why the golem froze, and why Schönborn and Elsa disappeared.”

  “What nonsense are you talking?” Lukas snapped at him. “I’ve told you I can’t do magic . . .” But then he trailed off, thinking about that soft ringing sound in his ears, and about how exhausted he’d suddenly felt back at the palace. He’d felt a similar exhaustion several times here in Prague, always just after some magical occurrence. Perhaps he really had cast a spell? But how? And why had it worked that time? He hadn’t done anything.

  Had he?

  Lukas remembered how Gwendolyn had been lying on the floor of the palace hall, deathly pale. Her red hair had formed a halo around her head, beautiful as an angel, the way it had back at the rose garden when he’d healed her magically. Both times he’d been endlessly sad, but he’d also felt something more.

  Something more than affection.

  “Love!” Lukas exclaimed, finally understanding.

  The others at the table stared at him in confusion.

  “Perhaps the golem whacked him in the head after all,” Paulus quipped.

  Lukas let out a relieved laugh. “No, you don’t understand. I finally realized how I’m able to do magic. It’s love.” He hesitated. The whole thing suddenly struck him as a little embarrassing.

  Jerome raised an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

  “I think Lukas is right,” Senno piped up. “If I heard you correctly before, Lukas has done magic four times now.” He counted on his fingers. “The first time, his love for his mother gave him the strength to heal himself. At Polonius’s lab, it was his love for his sister, and in the rose garden and at the palace, it was his love for Gwendolyn.”

  “But how does that make sense?” Giovanni asked. “Why does Lukas only have magic powers when he loves someone?”

  “Love is a very powerful force,” Senno explained. “Some people say it’s stronger than hate, stronger than anger, stronger than anything else in the world, in fact.”

  �
�My mother always said that,” Lukas murmured, more to himself. “I should have known.”

  Senno sighed. “Schönborn is a wizard of black magic, so he draws his power from hate. I’m afraid Elsa is just like her father. Lukas, on the other hand, inherited the gift from his mother, who was a white witch—one of the last in existence. That was why Schönborn wanted to join with her: he thought that their powers combined would be invincible. But the plan went awry. In the end, love triumphed over hate, just as it has today.”

  “Oho!” Paulus smacked the table, laughing. “Didn’t I tell you? Our little Lukas is traveling Cupid’s path!” He gave Lukas a teasing bow. “Can we be groomsmen at your wedding, at least?”

  “You dimwit.” Lukas wound up to give Paulus a fat smack upside the head, but then he stopped, grinning. “Ah, what does it matter? Yes, I like Gwendolyn,” he admitted with a shrug. “Whether she’s the love of my life, I don’t know. I’m not very experienced in such things. But it’s a strong feeling, different from anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”

  “These strong emotions are what give you the power to do magic,” Senno said. “But I’m afraid you won’t be able to create them deliberately, the way you build a fire or light a lamp. They come and go without your help. That was how it was with Gwendolyn.”

  “She is pretty, though, with that red hair of hers,” Jerome pointed out, grinning. “Oh là là!”

  “And she can fight, too,” Paulus agreed.

  “A good match,” Giovanni added.

  “Oh, stop already, you idiots,” Lukas said. “What’s the big deal? Why is it so hard for boys to admit that they like someone? Can anyone tell me that?”

  Giovanni smiled and gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. “You’re right, we’re sorry. We don’t mean anything by it.”

  “And besides, Gwendolyn is too old for Lukas anyway,” Jerome pointed out. “Now, my humble self, on the other hand—”

  “Ah, if I could just interrupt you young gentlemen for a moment,” Senno broke in. “I’m less interested in this girl than in what became of Schönborn and Elsa.”

  Paulus snorted. “Well, we know that Schönborn is most likely burning in hell. Gwendolyn’s arrow hit him right in the chest.”

  “Don’t be so certain about that,” Senno countered. “Schönborn and Elsa invoked the demon Lilith; perhaps she helped him. Even without the Grimorium, that man is extremely powerful. Which brings me to my next question.” Senno’s eyes twinkled as he turned to Lukas. “The Grimorium Nocturnum. You have it with you, don’t you?”

  Lukas nodded hesitantly. His hand went to his doublet, where he had the magic book safely against his chest. “Elsa must have lost it when she and Schönborn disappeared so suddenly,” he said quietly. “I’m just holding it for her, hoping that she’ll return to me because she wants it back. The book changed Elsa; without the Grimorium, she might well go back to being the little sister I knew and loved.”

  “Have you considered that perhaps the book didn’t want to stay with Elsa any longer?” Senno asked. “Perhaps that was why it didn’t disappear with her. Maybe you’re the chosen one?”

  Lukas gave a start and scooted away from Senno involuntarily. “How can you say such a thing? The Grimorium chose Elsa, not me. I never disputed that, even if she claimed otherwise.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Senno raised a hand in a placating gesture. “I’m only saying that you have great magical powers within you as well. Maybe the Grimorium wants to show you how to use them more effectively. Thus far, they’ve emerged purely by coincidence, as an emotional response—you’ve never been able to control them. But perhaps the book would help you with that. For the benefit of humanity, of course,” he added.

  “Or for your own gain?” Lukas shot back. “Don’t take this personally, Senno, but I don’t think I’m going to use the book. I don’t even want to open it. It changes people, makes them evil. I saw it happen to Elsa.”

  “Your sister is young and weak,” Senno replied, giving Lukas a penetrating look. “The weak are always led astray quickly. But you are stronger, Lukas. I can sense it.”

  “My sister isn’t weak! And I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense.” Lukas stood up. “I’m going to go check on Gwendolyn,” he said curtly. “She might be hungry.”

  Lukas fetched a jug of water and a few slices of bread, and carried them upstairs to Gwendolyn’s chamber. He was still confused. He had no idea how to use his powers, nor if they would ever emerge again. He could only hope that he would see everything more clearly in the future.

  He also decided he didn’t trust Senno. Lukas suspected that the astrologer would be all too happy to use the Grimorium for his own purposes. But the book clearly hadn’t chosen Senno—that dubious honor had fallen to two children.

  Him and Elsa.

  Tentatively, Lukas knocked on the door to Gwendolyn’s room. There was so much he wanted to talk to her about, but already he felt a lump in his throat. No response came from inside; Lukas heard only a creaking sound. He went in.

  Fully dressed in her leather doublet, trousers, and boots, with her bow slung over one shoulder, Gwendolyn was standing at the open window with one leg already over the sill. The shutters were swaying in the breeze, squeaking. Her red hair spilled out from underneath the bandage around her head.

  “What are you doing?” Lukas blinked in confusion.

  “Isn’t that obvious? I’m departing this lovely inn.” Gwendolyn bowed with a thin smile. “Sorry that I can’t pay for the lodging and the medical care, but in exchange I won’t ask payment for my invaluable services on this adventure. Agreed?”

  “But you can’t just leave,” Lukas blurted out. “I mean . . . you’re injured! And we still have to bring the Imperial Regalia back to the Kaiser and . . .” Lukas tried to find more reasons to protest.

  “I think others are better suited to that task than I am,” she replied. “My work is done here. You have your younger sister to find, and I have a younger brother who needs my help.” She furrowed her brow, as though she had just come to a decision. “I think Jussi and I will be leaving. Perhaps we’ll go back to Wales. Now that Father is dead, there’s no reason for us to stay in this city.”

  “But what will you live on?” Lukas asked, making one last desperate attempt.

  Gwendolyn gave him an impish smile. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Welsh girls always find a way to get by.”

  “But you can’t go, because . . . because . . .” Lukas hesitated.

  “Because what?” Gwendolyn asked, tilting her head to one side.

  “Because . . . because I love you!”

  Now it was finally out. Lukas felt strangely relieved.

  Gwendolyn stared at him in astonishment, and then smiled. Lukas thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “No boy has ever said that to me,” she said with a soft laugh. “Especially not such a good-looking, courageous one who wields a rapier better than anyone I’ve ever seen. That’s very nice of you to say.”

  “You mean you feel the same?” Lukas asked, hopeful.

  “Love?” Gwendolyn shut her eyes for a second. “What a big word! I like you, Lukas. A lot. And I admit that I’ve been thinking about you. But love?” She shrugged. “Maybe in another life, or in a couple of years.”

  “Just go ahead and say it. You think I’m too young.” It came out sounding more defiant and childish than he’d intended.

  “We’re both young, Lukas. And there’s still so much to experience out there. So many adventures to be had.” She winked at him. “Come visit me in Wales. There are lonely moors and deep, shadowy valleys we can roam through. And when it rains, we can slip under a blanket together. Trust me, it rains a lot in Wales. Hwyl fawr! ”

  With that, she jumped.

  All that remained of her was the soft echo of her laugh. Lukas hurried to the window and saw her red hair one last time before she slipped around a corner.

  Gwendolyn had disappeared from his life.
>
  Lukas sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. He’d acted like such a fool! Like a little boy, not like the proud fighter he wanted to be for Gwendolyn. But then he thought about that brief flicker of uncertainty in her eyes when he’d confessed his love to her, and he was sure that she felt something more for him, too. Maybe they’d run into one another again someday. Until then, he’d have his memories of her red hair, her clever retorts, and more than anything, her unmatched archery skills.

  Still slightly dazed, he went back down to the tavern, where Senno and his friends were waiting for him expectantly.

  “Well?” Giovanni asked. “How is she?”

  Lukas shrugged. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Paulus leapt up. “You just let her leave?”

  “There’s no stopping someone like Gwendolyn. We should have known as much.” Lukas smiled, thinking back to Gwendolyn’s parting words.

  “Just as well,” Senno sniffed. “Women only lead to unhappiness anyway. I can already think of several potential adventures where the Grimorium could help us quite a bit.”

  “I believe I said this already,” Lukas interrupted. “I’m never going to use that damned book.”

  “Not even to defend your homeland?” Senno asked in a sly tone.

  Lukas knitted his brow. “How do you mean?”

  “I’ve received word that hostile mercenaries are threatening the Palatinate again. They may very well be at the Lohenfels gates before long.”

  “Then we’ll ride like the Devil and stand in their way,” Lukas said. “We’ve managed this long without the Grimorium; we will continue to do so. Besides, you don’t use books and love to defeat hostile mercenaries, you use swords.”

  Senno laughed his high, crystalline laugh. “Well spoken, young warrior. And what about your sister?”

  “If Elsa does want the book back, she’ll come to me,” Lukas replied resolutely. “I have a feeling this isn’t the end. And when the time comes, I’ll fight for my sister.”