by Ty Johnston
“Be angry with me if you must,” Kron said, “but learn from me. If you were looking for someone to tell you the proper rules of gentlemen’s fencing, you have the wrong teacher. I’m here to tell you how to survive.”
Adara grabbed the reigns of her horse and spun away from Kron, her long dark hair swinging out behind her.
“You could have gone a little easier on her,” Randall said.
Kron looked over his left shoulder to see the healer allowing his steed a drink from the river.
“If I go soft on her, she won’t survive Fortisquo and whatever your father sends against us,” Kron said.
“True enough, but right now I’m more concerned about her surviving you. She’s obviously not used to such treatment,” Randall said. “Look at her. She’s nobility of some sort. You can tell by the way she acts, how she walks. It’s in her straight back and upturned chin.”
“You’re royalty and you don’t act such,” Kron said.
“I’m Kobalan. That’s different.”
“What are we going to do for food?” Adara’s exasperated voice interrupted from the roadway.
Kron reached for his horse’s reigns and marched up the hill toward the woman. “We should reach Holderby’s Landing about nightfall,” he said. “We can purchase food and supplies there, and probably basic weapons.”
“What about medicines?” Randall asked as he and his horse followed Kron.
“Maybe some simple herbs and wrappings,” Kron said.
Adara grasped her saddle and pulled herself onto her horse. As she watched Kron and Randall do the same, she asked, “Are you going to tell us where we’re going after Holderby’s Landing?”
“There’s a lesser road that heads north, eventually to Caballerus, but we’ll bypass it and turn northeast and head toward the Lands,” Kron said.
“You mean the Prisonlands?” Adara asked.
“There might be people there who can help us,”Kron said and spurred his horse into a trot. “If you do not care for our mission, you should not have come along.”
Adara looked to Randall. “He thinks he’s on some kind of mission,” she said. “For whom? Mighty Ashal?”
“I’d say it’s for himself,” Randall said and rode off after Kron.
“Men,” Adara huffed.
***
As the last of the sun’s rays sank beneath the clouds to their west, the three found themselves still on the road. The traffic had picked up some, a merchant’s caravan nearly half a mile long traveling west to Bond passed them at one point, but Kron had been too stubborn to ask anyone how far it was to Holderby’s Landing.
“I thought you said we’d be there by nightfall,” Adara complained from atop her horse as the three continued eastward.
“I said we should be there by nightfall,” Kron said. “The stars are not yet out.”
“That’s only because there are clouds,” Adara said aside to Randall.
Kron paid no attention to her words. He kept his eyes on the road ahead while his ears remained sharp for anything out of the ordinary in the woods to their left. The forest was not thick, so it was unlikely an ambush would come from that direction, and their right was open to the ever-flowing Ursian River. Kron knew Belgad or some of his men would show sooner or later. He wanted to be able to anticipate any attack before they rode into a death trap.
Several times during the two days of travel Kron had pulled the group to the side of the road, into brush or behind trees, to allow travelers to pass. A couple of times he had made them hide when a boat or barge had shown on the river. At night he dug a shallow hole in the ground for their campfires so the glow would not be noticeable from a distance. Kron also hid their tracks around their encampments, using leafy branches to scrap away any signs of their passing. Anyone following them would need a decent tracker to catch their trail, and Kron wanted it to stay that way. He might not be able to place a magical web over them to hide their presence from magical detection, as Randall had done once each day during breakfast, but Kron could make sure any mortal man would have to work at finding them.
Which was why Kron was surprised when an old man with a hood pulled over his head stood some distance ahead of them in the middle of their path.
Kron and Adara immediately pulled their horses to a halt and drew swords.
“Randall!” the hooded figure yelled.
The healer slowed his steed, stared ahead at the person blocking their way, then let out a resounding guffaw.
“Maslin!” the healer yelled kicking his horse’s sides to get it to charge forward.
Adara nearly followed, but Kron put a hand on her arm. “It could be a trap,” he said.
Seconds later, Randall yanked his horse to a stop and jumped off the animal. The young healer and the old wizard embraced as if they had not seen one another in years.
Adara recognized Maslin Markwood from her days living in Belgad’s mansion. “It looks like him,” she said, pointing her sword at the wizard.
“Be cautious,” Kron said, returning his sword to its sheath on his back and riding forward with the woman at his side.
“It’s good to see you,” Randall said as he stepped back from his friend but continued to grip the wizard by the arms.
“And you,” Markwood said, gleaming at the younger man in front of him. “I’ve been waiting, hoping I’d catch you before you made it to the next town.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Randall said, letting the man’s arms go. “It could have been dangerous. There’s no telling what kind of ruffians could come along.”
Kron and Adara stopped their horses next to the pair of mages.
“We should move to the side of the road,” Kron said.
Markwood looked up and down the road with a critical eye. “Of course, you are right.”
Adara looked to the sky and saw the night’s first stars breaking through the gray clouds. “Should we make camp?” she asked.
Kron followed her gaze. “We might as well. We can reach Holderby’s Landing in the morning.”
The group broke apart to settle their horses and to put together a simple camp.
Maslin Markwood proved helpful by using magic to create a fire he promised would not be detectable further than ten feet from their camp; Kron tested the wizard’s claim and found it to be true. He lost sight of the flames and the campers once he went beyond the edge of the fire’s glow. Markwood proved even more helpful when he produced several jars of fruit preserves from within his robes and a bag full of soft, yeasty rolls.
“Picked them up at Madam Fiera’s before I left the city,” the old wizard said as he took a seat near the fire and passed the food to the healer.
“How did you get ahead of us?” Kron asked.
“Let an old wizard have a few secrets,” the Markwood said with a grin.
“He likely turned himself into a flying creature,” Randall suggested.
“In fact, I turned myself into a bird,” Markwood said with a chuckle.
“You turned into a bird?” Adara asked.
“It’s not something I make a habit of,” Markwood said, “but it does come in helpful.”
“Could you turn us all into birds, or turn into a giant avian yourself and carry us to Kobalos?” Kron asked.
“He could,” Randall answered as he popped open the glass lids on the jars of preserves, “but it would use a large amount of magical power. It would weaken him.”
Markwood nodded as he took a roll from Randall. “The magic would eventually wear off, after a day or two, so I would have to cast the spell every few days,” he said. “In layman’s terms, we’re talking a vast amount of my personal power would be sapped. While I could turn into a giant bird, I would be quite useless once I did it. I would be too weak.”
“Then what use is magic if it tires you?” Adara asked as she sat on a stone near the old wizard and accepted a roll from Randall.
Kron interrupted. “We can have the classroom discussion another ti
me. Right now we need to find out what professor Markwood knows,” Kron turned to look at the old wizard. “I don’t suppose you’ve showed up merely for our company.”
Markwood swallowed a piece of roll and nodded. “You are correct,” he said as he gave Kron a dark look. “I’m taking it you are Kron Darkbow, the fellow who has been unnerving Belgad the Liar of late?”
Kron nodded in return with a dark look of his own. “I take it, then, Belgad is still among the living?”
“He is indeed,” the wizard said. “He managed to escape your flames.”
Kron was silent.
“Much has transpired over the last couple of days,” Markwood went on. “First, I wanted to let you know Sergeant Gris is safe. He came to me at the university and I made him stay there until I left earlier today.”
“Why did you do that?” Adara asked.
“The good sergeant wanted to return to his barracks, but I would have none of that,” Markwood said. “Belgad was looking for him and I knew Gris would be safest with me. It was only for two nights and I made sure he was comfortable. Of course I placed a few protective wards around him.”
“Did he leave your office once you came after us?” Randall asked, taking a seat near Kron.
“He told me he was going to return to his barracks,” Markwood said. “I knew Belgad had left Bond by that time, so I figured the sergeant would be relatively safe. He still has my wards protecting him for a few days, but I believe Belgad has lost interest in him.”
“Why do you know so much about Belgad?” Kron asked.
Markwood gave a wry smile from between his gray mustache and long beard. “As I told you, I’m a wizard,” he said. “I’ll keep my own secrets.”
Kron sat in silence.
“Belgad is on his way,” Markwood continued. “He’s brought with him Fortisquo and a handful of soldiers. He also has a new wizard, a woman named Karitha Jarnac.”
“Jarnac?” Adara asked.
“I thought you would recognize the name,” Markwood said. “My understanding is she’s the sister to an old friend of yours.”
“What is she doing with Belgad?” Adara asked.
“The man wanted a wizard for tracking you,” Markwood said to the group. “Fortisquo suggested Karitha, and she accepted once she heard Adara was involved.”
“You know this wizard?” Kron asked Adara.
Adara stared at the camp fire as if seeing something or someone she did not wish to see. “Maybe once or twice years ago,” the woman said. “It was soon after I came to Bond. I was close to her brother.”
“She wants to see you dead,” Markwood said.
Adara turned to the wizard. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“What wasn’t your fault?” Randall asked.
Adara looked around the group as if wondering how much she could trust them.
“Jarnac killed himself a few years ago,” Markwood said.
“Did you have something to do with this man’s death?” Kron asked Adara.
“No!” the woman blurted
“Then why do you act guilty?” Kron said.
Adara visibly shook. She wrapped her arms around herself to gain control, but her shoulders continued to shake.
“It was after Adara had moved on to Fortisquo,” Markwood said.
Adara gasped as a tear rolled down her cheek.
Randall leaned nearer Adara and wrapped an arm around her. “Who was this Jarnac?” he asked.
“I’ve heard of him,” Kron answered. “He was a famous rapier duelist.”
Randall turned to Markwood. “Do you know anything about Karitha? I don’t recognize her from the university.”
“She didn’t study in the West,” Markwood said. “She and her brother were Truscan. She probably studied under a master in Trode or Provenzano.”
“How does Belgad know we are heading east?” Kron interjected.
“You were spotted leaving the city,” the old wizard said. “Belgad had agents in the crowds watching for you.”
“That’s the last time I underestimate that man,” Kron said appearing angry with himself.
Without saying a word, Adara moved away from the others, took a blanket from a pile of gear near and lay down on the ground, covering herself.
“Perhaps tomorrow night we can sleep in beds,” Randall mused.
“Maybe, but we shouldn’t linger in Holderby’s Landing,” Kron said, “and I don’t like the idea of staying at a roadside inn. The less we are seen, the better.”
Randall yawned. “It has been a tiring two days,” he said finding a blanket for himself and curling up near the fire.
Kron grinned. “I suppose I’m taking first watch.”
Markwood returned the grin, but it was not a happy one. “Very well, then,” he said stretching out on the ground with his feet toward the fire and his head leaning against a saddle. “Wake me if you need me to take a watch.”
Kron nodded at the old man, then watched him close his eyes.
An owl hooted in the distance, but Kron did not move, knowing the bird meant no trouble.
***
Markwood ended up not sharing watch duty. Randall had too much respect for the wizard to wake him.
The young healer had the last watch, so he was up before the others and had a breakfast of rolls and jarred fruits laid out.
“We’re going to need more food,” Randall said to Kron as he helped the man tie his saddle on his horse.
“And weapons,” Kron said. “I need a proper sword, and a bow if I can find one.
Kron glanced at the healer. “Can you use a weapon?”
“I’ve some training, but I’m no expert,” Randall said cinching the belt beneath the horse’s stomach.
“We should get you a weapon,” Kron said.
“Why?” Randall asked.
Kron smirked. “For appearances,” he said. “Despite its legality in West Ursia, magic isn’t popular in the countryside. It’s not likely you would be lynched, but it’s better if we draw less attention. A weapon or two will make you look less like a mage.”
Markwood nodded as he stood from his resting space. “Darkbow is right.”
Adara stood off to one side, readying her own animal for that day’s riding. She had said nothing to the others and most of them did not wish to intrude upon her thoughts.
Kron, however, did not mind intruding.
“You need to keep up your lessons” he said. “It will keep your mind from brooding too much.”
Adara appeared uninterested, but she turned away from her horse and entered a defensive stance, her left foot slightly ahead of her right.
“Good posture and positioning,” Kron said. “You’re standing lightly on the balls of your feet. I see you’ve had good training.”
The woman gave a slight nod without saying anything.
“This morning we’re going to work on the knife,” Kron said pulling a dagger from his belt.
“I know how to fight with a dagger,” she said.
“You know how to use a main gauche for defense,” Kron said. “You need to know how to use a smaller blade for offense and defense for when you won’t have your rapier available.”
“First, I don’t plan on ever being without my rapier,” Adara said. “Second, I’ve had training with a knife.”
“You once struck me in the back of the leg with a thrown knife,” Kron said, “so tell me, when is it a good time to throw a knife at your opponent?”
Adara hesitated. It was obviously a question for which she did not have a good answer. “Whenever the opportunity to harm your enemy presents itself,” she said as if not liking the sound of her own words.
“No,” Kron said holding his dagger before him so Adara could see its angles. “You only throw a weapon if you are armed with at least two other weapons and your opponent also has multiples weapons. A thrown dagger is not a very good weapon. It is a weapon that rarely kills. If the only weapon you have is the knife and you throw it, then you are w
ithout a weapon. If you have two daggers and throw one of them, then you’ve given your opponent an extra weapon while taking a weapon away from yourself. However, if you have three or more daggers, you could throw one then; after all, you only have two hands.”
“Is this all you’re going to do? Lecture me?” Adara asked with a hint of anger. “When do we cross swords?”
“When I feel you are ready,” Kron said slipping his dagger back into its sheath and turning away.
She stared after him with slits for eyes.
After the horses were readied and breakfast eaten, Randall offered Markwood a ride on his mount.
“No, thank you,” the old wizard said. “I won’t be going with you.”
“Why not?” Randall said. “You’ve come this far, I thought you would be staying.”
“I’ve considered it,” Markwood said, “but then I realized I can do much for you in Bond. I can be your eyes and ears and keep a watch on Belgad’s gang, and upon your father and his minions. It’ll be easier for me to do that at the university, with the proper tools. I’m sure I could be of service to you on the road, but you’ll travel faster without an old man hanging on. And I can get to you quickly if I need to.”
Kron said nothing, seemingly satisfied with the matter, and climbed into his saddle, as did Adara.
“Are you sure you won’t stay, even for a day?” Randall pleaded with the old mage.
Markwood hugged the young man, then stepped back from him. “I’m too old to be going off into the wilds, but I will be there when you need me,” he said smiling. “I will be watching from a distance.”
Randall stared at the ground, looking glum.
“Don’t fret,” Markwood said with a chuckle. “I will be fine, and I have faith the three of you shall overcome any obstacles in your path, though I do believe traveling to Kobalos is quite insane.”
Randall gave the old wizard a lopsided smile.
“But it is time you faced up to your father,” Markwood added, reaching inside his robes and withdrawing a small leather sack which he tossed to Kron.
“That should help you on your way,” the wizard said to the man in black.
Kron untied the lacings at the top of the sack and stared inside to see silver and gold coins. He saluted the wizard with two fingers.