03- A Sip of Magic

by Guy Antibes

  Shira nodded. Pol saw her confidence evaporate and couldn’t let that happen.

  “I’m relying on you, Shira,” Pol said. He took her hand in his. “We’ll have time to figure out this other stuff tomorrow.” He kissed it and let it drop to her side.

  His heart beat in his chest, wondering if he had done the right thing, and hoped that he had. They couldn’t be distracted until they were back in Borstall. He couldn’t afford to let their relationship affect them. Pol pushed away thoughts of Shira and focused on the mission. He had to.

  He put out the location sense and saw four dots among the trees some distance ahead.

  “People,” he said, “on foot.”

  They tied up their horses, and the two women listened to Pol describe where the others were, and then they split up. Pol would take on the two dots that traveled the closest together.

  He slipped through the forest as quietly as Siggon, Paki’s father, and Jonness, the Seeker monk at Deftnis, had taught him. He heard voices quietly talking to one another, complaining about the lack of good food.

  When he was close enough, he put them both to sleep and tagged them with a tiny magician’s light, so he could find them again in the dark.

  Pol proceeded towards Kolli’s target. When he found her, she had taken care of the guard, the non-magical way. She wiped her knife on the dead man’s sleeve. Pol nodded, and they headed towards Shira.

  A shout broke the silence in the woods, prompting both of them to run to Shira.

  Pol threw a knife at the scout, but it slid off of chainmail from this distance. He had another in his hand and teleported it into the scout’s heart. The soldier fell silently onto the forest floor.

  Kolli ran over to Shira.

  “My bow tangled up in a branch,” she said, clutching her arm. The end of a crossbow bolt stuck out between fingers covered in blood.

  Pol looked back and saw the crossbow still in the soldier’s hand. He knelt next to Shira and reminded her that pulling out the bolt would hurt, but he teleported it to the ground.

  “Ow!” Shira said. She shook her bloody hand and looked down at the bolt on the forest floor. “It still hurts, but not as much. Is that something new that you did?”

  Pol nodded. “No. That’s how I removed the arrow from your shoulder on the river. I remembered that I didn’t want to do damage coming out and figured that I could do something else.”

  “Good,” Shira said. “I’m ready. Do some more.” She clenched her teeth.

  Pol pushed away her hand and worked on repairing her arm. The bolt had cracked the bone in her upper arm, but that was easy to fix. It had also done damage to some arteries, and that took Pol more time to repair. Her left arm had too many scars, he thought.

  “Watch how you use that arm,” he said.

  Shira glared at Pol. “I’ve been healed before,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “by you.”

  She said it so petulantly that her words brought a smile to his face. “A healer has to say it,” Pol said.

  Her face softened. “Then say it again, my healer.”

  Pol’s face burned with the intimate comment. Shira looked defiantly at Kolli, who put up her hands.

  “He’s your healer. I’m fine with that,” Kolli said. “I am beyond impressed, Pol. There are no healers in the North Salvan army who could do what you just did.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Are you ready to move, Shira?”

  She nodded and let Pol help her up.He felt a little wobbly from the healing and scrounged the packs of the dead men for food.

  “We should dress as these men,” Kolli said. She knelt down to inspect the scout and produced a tiny magician’s light, which surprised Pol. “I’m not without other resources,” she said. “There’s just a little blood. What did you do?”

  “I teleported the knife into his heart. My first throw didn’t make it through the chainmail.”

  Kolli gave Pol an astonished look. “All this in a year? You have grown.”

  “Having a healthy body makes a big difference,” Pol said.

  “I guess.” Kolli pulled off the tabard and the chainmail shirt. “They wore different colored pants, so we only need to put the tops on.”

  Pol led them to the two soldiers who were asleep and began to strip one while Shira took care of the other.

  “This seems to be smaller,” Pol said, tossing the chainmail tunic to Shira.

  “Is that an insult?” Shira said.

  “No, it’s called being considerate,” Pol said. He heard Kolli’s soft giggle.

  Pol looked down at the soldier, wondering what to do. Kolli didn’t hesitate and put an end to both of them.

  “They didn’t have to die,” Pol said.

  Shira didn’t look shocked at all. “What do you think they would do if they woke in an hour and we’re still poking around in the camp? If they are under compulsion?”

  Life wasn’t particularly pleasant, Pol thought, but he saw the necessity. He had to remind himself that this was war, and the time when he had the luxury of feeling awful was past. His mind went back to the time Valiso Gasibli had killed the Borstall Castle stable master. Perhaps Val thought it was war, too. In a sense it was the beginning of this one, Pol admitted.

  “Which way?” Shira said.

  Pol reached out and found a sea of dots faintly to the southeast. “This way.” He colored his hair dark before he extinguished his magician’s light.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ~

  THEY EASILY EVADED A FEW OTHER BANDS of scouts on their way towards the camp. Pol led them through a more lightly-populated area, and they soon realized why.

  “Nice strategic move,” Kolli said, gagging. “You led us to the enemy’s latrines.” She laughed and coughed. “If only there was some interesting kind of defensive trap we could lay here.”

  “Quiet,” Pol said as they walked past and into the fringes of the tents. Pol remembered that Honna had a green colored dot, and most of these were yellow. Pol had no idea what the colors meant in his mind, but he focused on finding a green one. How else could they find Honna, if she was even here?

  “Don’t skulk,” Kolli said. “We are soldiers in the army. Walk casually. However, Shira, keep your head down so your Shinkyan features won’t be noticed.”

  Shira grunted, rubbing her injured arm. She kept her head bowed a bit. She stumbled and let out a little groan before she straightened up. Pol’s mouth dropped open when she gave him a weak smile with a face that looked like Paki’s.

  “I don’t know if my arm hurts more than my face,” she said as they walked towards the center of the camp.

  The darkness and the flickering flames of torches served to hide the trio as they traveled farther into the enemy’s midst. Pol found a familiar green dot up ahead where the light became brighter. He pointed to a dark space between tents.

  “Those are magician lights ahead,” he said to Kolli. “We aren’t here to save Princess Honna. We are here to observe.” His words were more for his benefit than the others’.

  They walked slowly among the thickening crowd of soldiers. Pol motioned towards a pathway through the tent city and stood looking into an open area. He could see Honna and Lord Riverdale sitting at a dinner table in front of a large tent.

  King Astor walked out with Onkar and sat on the other side of Riverdale. They spent an hour observing their dinner. The conversation didn’t bring them any information that they didn’t already know, except Lord Riverdale still had a few disruptors in the city. The traitor lamented that there were just a few. Pol took that as good news.

  The General stood and called to some guards. “Bring out the prisoners.”

  Pol’s mouth dropped open when Paki and Kell, bound and obviously beaten, were dragged into the open area and commanded to kneel in front of the table.

  “You know these boys?” Onkar looked at Honna. “They were caught riding hard to Borstall from the south. I thought we might have some fun with them tonight
.”

  “I know the dark-haired one. He was my youngest brother’s friend, a mere servant,” she said, the distaste plain on her face. It made her look hard and ugly, Pol thought.

  “The other?”

  Honna shrugged and shook her head.

  Onkar stood and walked from behind the table. “We’ll find out why they were rushing back to Borstall,” he said with a face filled with arrogance.

  He put a hand on Kell’s disheveled hair and stood back.

  “Why were you out and about?”

  Kell looked at Onkar. His eyes were filled with terror as he struggled with the truth spell. Pol had protected them from mind-control, and hopefully from coercion.

  “We rode to warn the King of North Salvan that you were close to the city.”

  Onkar sneered. “Is that all? Colvin must know that, right, Princess?”

  “He hasn’t been able to think clearly about the threat,” she said.

  “But what about Nater, our little renegade acolyte? Didn’t he remove Bythia’s spell?” Onkar said.

  “Nater doesn’t exist. He is actually Poldon Fairfield, the disinherited prince,” Lord Riverdale said.

  “When I last saw him, if one even looked at him, he would start to wheeze,” King Astor said.

  “The last time you saw him, he was disguised as the acolyte who accompanied Captain Horker. He was able to free Beastwell and the Queen under your very nose. Those aren’t the actions of a feeble boy,” Onkar said. “We will put an end to these spies.”

  He pulled out his sword. “Honna? Will you do the honors?”

  “If it pleases you, General.”

  She walked around the table and took the sword from Onkar.

  “I’ll kill Poldon’s little friend first.” She looked like she was going to enjoy killing Paki. She grabbed the sword with both hands, point down, and lifted it up.

  Onkar nodded, and four soldiers each took one of Paki’s limbs and spread him out.

  Pol shook the shock out of his mind and sighed. He didn’t want to kill his sister, but Paki was a true friend, and he would not let Honna kill him.

  “Get ready to run.” He had three of the flat Shinkyan throwing knives in his hand and pressed his lips together, preparing himself for what he had to do.

  Honna took a deep breath as she raised the sword a bit higher.

  Pol sent a knife deep into her chest. Everything went in slow motion for Pol as he watched her eyes widen and her mouth open in surprise just before she collapsed over Paki.

  Then Pol did the same to Onkar. When the General fell, the soldiers began to shout, and they began draw weapons, looking in all directions before they began to run out of the open area. Lord Riverdale pulled King Astor into Onkar’s tent, depriving Pol of the third intended target, the King of South Salvan.

  Pol reached into the pattern of the camp and pictured eliminating mind-control on everyone before spelling himself into invisibility as Kell and Paki were left alone, sprawling in the dirt in the midst of growing chaos. He tried to expand his spell over his friends, cut their bonds, and took each by the hand. Pol pulled them back towards Kolli and Shira.

  “Where did the prisoners go?” Pol heard behind him. Their disappearance only brought more confusion inside the camp.

  Kolli threw a tabard over Kell, so Pol did the same to Paki as they began to follow groups of soldiers running this way and that way until they reached the latrine area again.

  Despite their gagging, Pol led them through the stench and into the forest.

  “How did you get caught?”

  Kell shook his head in the dark. “They have roving bands on the south side of Borstall. We didn’t run into them coming out from the castle since we headed west first.”

  “My scouts stood a chance, then,” Kolli said.

  They reached their horses. Paki rode with Kolli, and Shira sat behind a heavier Kell.

  “There are dots throughout the area, but less towards the west, away from Borstall,” Pol said. He led them through the forest and diverted them to keep from running head-on into the enemy.

  Pol stopped them at dawn, and they rested in a copse of woods next to an old deserted farm. They split up what food they had left.

  “How did you get us out of the middle of everything?” Kell said.

  “Invisibility,” Shira said. “He’s the only magician I know of who can do it.”

  “That you know of,” Pol said. “I’ve used it before. I had to kill Onkar to stir up the nest.”

  “So that will stop the war in one blow, eh?” Paki said.

  Kolli shook her head. “Not with King Astor to lead them.”

  “Not to mention the Abbot of Tesna. They won’t be as strong an army without Onkar, though,” Pol said. “Onkar was a charismatic leader and played by his own rules. They won’t be as hard to defeat, but any army of fifteen thousand men, as Onkar claimed, will be a difficult foe.”

  Shira grasped Pol’s arm. “I’m sorry that you had to kill your sister.”

  Pol had tried to push that act out of his mind, but he’d have to face the consequences of ending Honna’s life. “She wasn’t under any coercion when she relished putting Onkar’s sword through Paki’s chest. I had to make a choice, and,” he looked at Paki, “I know I made the right one.” At what cost, he wondered? Pol knew he would always remember his stepsister’s startled face. He lost his breath at the image and couldn’t shake the guilt of ending her life.

  “She was a traitor to your father and to North Salvan,” Kolli said. “I know you’ll not easily forget what you did, but you saved your friends and eliminated your father’s enemy. Do you think she would hesitate if you were underneath that blade? We know she was complicit with the assassins attacking your father, the King.”

  “But that’s not the point, is it? She was my sister,” Pol said. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I did what I had to do, and if I was confronted with the same situation, I would still do it again.” Except he wished King Astor would have rushed to the General’s side. The man had ruined his family, and his daughter had been the one behind his mother’s death.

  There, he found the perspective within the pattern that he needed. He thought of his mother’s death and imagined how Honna must have gloated that Queen Molissa died. He sighed.

  “I’m okay now. I’m sorry. I just needed a bit of time to talk it out.”

  Shira looked at him. Her hand had remained on his arm, and she gave him a squeeze. “We are all here for you, Pol.”

  “Right,” Kolli said. “Enough of that. If you are ready to ride, we need to get going. We are closer to the army’s camp than to Borstall. I suggest we head there first and take some soldiers to Borstall with us, if the General agrees.

  ~

  General Wellgill stood in front of his tent as Kolli led the group through the encampment.

  Pol still wore chainmail, but the tabards had been tossed away soon after they left the deserted farm a day ago.

  “Poldon Fairfield,” the General said. “You have a different look about you since I last we last met at the border of Tarida.”

  “I feel different,” Pol said. “We have to get to Borstall.”

  “I know. A messenger just arrived from the west. The Emperor’s forces are about ten days away, so I can afford to give you five hundred men. That is half the forces under my command. The rest will wait for the Emperor and attack the South Salvan army from the rear.”

  “Ten days!” Pol said. “Borstall will fall to South Salvan before then.”

  “It’s out of my hands. The Emperor’s orders take priority over King Colvin’s. You know that. I’m risking reprimand sending any of my men. Tell your father that the Emperor has commanded Taridan forces to move through North Salvan territory to bolster the battle at Borstall. I’ve sent officers north to escort the Taridans, but they are farther away than the Emperor.”

  “Won’t King Colvin object?” Pol asked.

  “This is an Imperial emergency. An army over ten
thousand? Hazett won’t stop until he destroys the South Salvan forces, believe me. Tell me what has happened over a meal, and then you can head out.”

  Pol let Kolli do the talking. It looked like there was no way to avoid the siege that Pol feared. He rubbed his hands on his pants, anxious to head back to Borstall.

  “I’d like a fresh horse,” Pol said. “I can’t wait for your men to follow as quickly as I can ride.”

  “Then take Kolli with you. She knows the land from here to Borstall better than anyone I know.”

  Before the sun had set, Kolli led Pol and his friends out of the camp. They would travel through the night.

  None of them said very much as they pushed their horses at Kolli’s command, running them hard and then walking their mounts the rest of the way. The sun had risen over the land when they caught sight of Borstall.

  Kolli led them north and then along a faint trail to a small gate. They were all weary when they convinced the guards above the wall to let them in. A thick iron portcullis slammed down behind them as Pol entered Borstall last.

  They pushed their mounts to the main castle courtyard and wearily dismounted as King Colvin walked down the steps to greet them. Kelso and Captain Carter rushed up to Pol.

  “What have you learned?” Colvin said.

  Pol put his hand on the King’s shoulder. “Honna is dead. She was a traitor, through and through.”

  The King stood speechless like a statue until he finally said, “Honna?”

  “Without coercion and not being mind-controlled. I saw her with my own eyes, sitting with King Aston, General Onkar, and Lord Riverdale. The South Salvan army will be at Borstall’s gate in about four days. The Emperor’s forces will arrive in ten. There are five hundred North Salvan soldiers marching in from the west, part of General Wellgill’s army. The Emperor has ordered him to wait with the rest of his troops. Taridan forces are coming down from the north. They will all be too late.”

  Pol had said it all. He felt numb as he handed over the Emperor’s message. He looked up to see Queen Isa and Horker standing by the main door to the castle.