“Run! Follow me,” Lorit called to Chedel. He headed down the alley that Zhimosom traced out for him on the map.
Overhead, he could hear the sound of the priest as he sang out the prayer.
“We need to get far away from here before the guards report us,” Lorit explained. “We have to find a way out of the city and fast.”
“I know a way,” Chedel offered. “My uncle runs wagons in and out of town all day. They should be heading back to the homestead with an empty soon. They always deliver the fist load just after sunup.”
“Lead the way, then,” Lorit replied.
The two young men headed off down the avenue to find Chedel’s uncle.
Sojourn
Lorit and Chedel hid beneath a tarp stretched across the meager remnants of straw that littered the bed of the wagon. The straw was scratchy and constantly poked both of the boys. The dust not only had a strong tendency to itch but also threatened to make Lorit sneeze. He was worried that any noise would reveal their hiding place, so he forced himself to endure the agony all the while the wagon made its way to their destination. When they reached the fork in the road, Chedel’s uncle halted the wagon.
“We’re here,” he called out.
“Is there anyone on the road?” Lorit whispered.
“No. The road is clear. There’s a small stand of trees just off to the right where you can take cover. Head for them and you should be out of sight before anyone else comes along,” the driver answered.
“Thanks for the ride,” Lorit called as they headed for the trees. He and Chedel ran as fast as their cramped legs would take them until they reached the small grove of trees that marked the beginning of the woods proper. The trees provided them shelter from the heat of the morning sun as they made their way towards the river.
The river was wide and deep despite the lateness of the season. The water crashed among the rocks violently, making its way south. There was no way to cross the river here.
“There’s a ford to the north of here,” Lorit explained. “Zhimosom showed me the route on the map before I came for you.”
“How did he teach you these things?” Chedel asked. “I was only able to see him faintly, as if through a dusty glass. I wasn’t able to make out much of what he said beyond his assurance that someone was coming to get me.”
“You should be glad you got that much,” Lorit explained. “The temple is shielded. It was difficult for him to make even that slight contact.
“I was fortunate,” Lorit continued. “Zhimosom was able to reach me the other night. That made it easy for him to contact me last night. He showed me a few things he thought would help us in our quest. We have to go to Amedon, to meet with him in person.”
Lorit paused and grasped Chedel’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Do you smell that?” he asked.
“It smells like smoke.”
“Be quiet,” Lorit said. “Let’s see who’s up ahead. Don’t let them see you.”
Lorit crept from tree trunk to tree trunk, scanning the forest. The smell of smoke grew stronger as he made his way northward along the bank of the river.
He came to an area where the trees had been cleared to make way for the road, as it drove straight for the river. Crossing the water was a ford that had been built up by depositing loose stones in the river until there was a solid roadbed just beneath the surface. The water splashed as it crossed the ford, accelerating across the rocks and rushing downstream.
In the clearing, Lorit could make out a small knot of people surrounding a smoking camp fire. Lorit stayed hidden as he watched them. There were three patrollers in their armor, with their shields and staffs placed carefully within reach. They sat in a circle around the fire, chatting in low voices.
Just outside the circle was a lone figure dressed in black robes. His hood was pulled over his head, but Lorit was pretty sure the man’s head would be shaved.
“Just what I needed,” Lorit muttered to himself, “another priest.” He turned and quietly made his way back to Chedel.
“There are three patrollers and a priest at the ford,” Lorit said. “If we can get past them, we can make it across the ford. I don’t know where else we can cross the river. I think the next crossing is leagues to the north of here.”
“Can’t we just use your shields so that they can’t see us?” Chedel asked.
“The priest will be able to see us. That’s why I had to wait until Morning Prayer, so the priest would be busy.”
Lorit shook his head in disbelief. All the effort to hide and make their way out of town and here was another priest baring the way. ”Where did this one come from?”
“There is another town just across the river from here. Maybe he came from there,” Chedel offered.
“I am not sure how we’re going to get across the ford. Do you have any ideas?”
“Maybe we should wait until they’re asleep.” Chedel shrugged his shoulders. He seemed quite happy to let Lorit do all the thinking for him.
“How good are you at conjuration?” Lorit asked.
“Me, I can’t conjure anything,” he replied. “Why would you ask me that?”
“The priests came for you. Didn’t you conjure something? How else did they detect you?” Lorit asked.
“I didn’t conjure anything. I wasn’t even aware that I had the potential to be a wizard until they grabbed me,” he explained. “They knew who I was, where I lived, and everything. Said they’d been watching me and started to sense the beginnings of something. I never did any wizardry.”
Chedel looked at Lorit questioningly. “What did you do that they detected you?”
“I conjured an apple. I was just sitting there having lunch with my sister and poof, there it was, a nice, red, juicy apple,” he explained. “Zhimosom told me that was the reason they could sense me. He taught me how to do it, so they don’t pick up on it.”
“Won’t that help with the priest here?” Chedel asked.
“No. He can sense the shields I used to hide us. Maybe we should wait until nightfall.”
Lorit scouted around until he found several large flat stones. He piled them up, setting them carefully one on top of the other until he had a stack almost as tall as he was. He stepped back to admire his work. The rock pillar tilted wildly and threatened to topple at the slightest touch.
“What are you doing?” Chedel asked.
“Hush, I am preparing,” Lorit answered.
“Preparing what? All I see is a pile of rocks.”
“This is a diversion. I plan to use it to get past the priest and the guards.”
Lorit stacked several piles of rocks in various locations scattered around the clearing before he finished his work. As the sun set, the rock piles took on a sinister look, in the lengthening shadows.
Lorit waited until darkness fell, before he spoke. “Let’s get moving before the moon rises, or we'll lose this lovely darkness.”
He motioned toward the river, “Follow me, quietly.”
Chedel followed closely behind Lorit as they made their way toward the clearing. He hoped the fire that warmed the guards would also blind them, so they wouldn’t see Lorit and Chedel make their way towards the ford.
The priest lay on his pack with his robe covering his head. Lorit wasn’t sure if the priest were already asleep or just dozing off.
“Let’s wait a bit,” he advised Chedel. “Give him a chance to go to sleep before we make a run for it.
They waited breathlessly until Lorit was comfortable. He whispered, “I think it’s time.” He peered into the campsite where one of the guards was asleep on his bedroll. One sat close to the fire, warming himself, as the night had cooled off. The third guard stood looking up the road that lead back toward Mistbury Tye.
“Get ready,” Lorit whispered. “When I give you the signal, you run.”
“Ready,” Chedel whispered in reply.
Suddenly there was a crash in the woods where Lorit and Chedel had spent the afternoon. The g
uard called out, “Who’s there?”
“Halt, who goes there?” the guard demanded. He headed into the woods, to investigate the source of the sound. Just as the first guard entered the shadow of the woods, another crash came from the opposite side of the clearing. The second guard jumped up, grabbed his spear and headed into the woods in the opposite direction.
“Now!” Lorit whispered tugging at Chedel’s arm. “Run for the ford.”
Lorit ran for the river. As his feet plunged into the swiftly running water, they turned numb from the cold. The Strotailye River was fed by mountain streams that were as frigid as ice this late in the year. They splashed their way across the ford making it more than half way before Lorit noticed the water was getting warmer, and not just because he was adjusting to it.
“Do you feel that?” he called to Chedel. “Is the water getting warmer?”
As if in answer, the water surrounding them started to emit heavy clouds of steam in the cold night air. The water was undoubtedly getting hotter as they made their way across the river.
“The water’s getting hot,” Chedel cried. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. It must be the priest. He must have woken up. He’s doing something with the water. Hurry up!”
Chedel splashed through the knee deep water alongside Lorit. The water grew hotter with each step they took, until it felt like they would be boiled alive before they reached the far shore.
“You’ll never make it,” a voice called. It seemed to come out of the steam that surrounded them.
“See if we don’t,” Lorit muttered to himself. He pulled at Chedel. “Come on! We have to hurry.”
“It’s too hot. We’ll never make it.”
“If that were true, he wouldn’t be taunting us,” Lorit said. “Keep going.”
The water grew so hot it was almost unbearable. They were only a dozen spans from the far shore, but Lorit could see that the water nearer the shore was bubbling, as if it were boiling. He had to come up with some way to get through that.
Lorit calmed himself and tried to imagine a shield around the two of them. He focused on a wall made of ice and filled with snow. He tried to think of anything he could to conjure up images of cold. As he focused, the water near the shore calmed, and the pain in his ankles lessened.
“Come on,” Lorit called to Chedel. “I think we can make it.”
The two young men splashed to the shore through water that was scalding hot, but not so hot that they couldn’t stand it. They stomped ashore, and fled up the road, running as long as they could breathe, before stopping in the shadows of the woods.
“That was close,” Lorit said, sitting on a rock to rest. He pulled up his trousers and examined his legs. His feet and calves were raw and red from the heat, but otherwise undamaged.
“What did you do back there?” Chedel asked.
“I conjured some ice and snow,” Lorit replied. He rolled his trouser legs back down and stood. “Come on, we have to get off the main road before they come after us.
They walked on for another hour, wandering deep into the forest, far from the main road, before they finally stopped for the night. Lorit rolled out his bedding and was fast asleep even before Chedel finished making his own bed.
Lorit was awakened from his sleep by the now familiar feeling of Zhimosom contacting him. If he was truly awake or this just happened in a dream, he didn’t know. He sat up and focused as the shape of the wizard came clear.
“You’ve had quite a day,” Zhimosom remarked.
“Yes,” was all Lorit had to say.
“What made you think of using ice and snow to counter the boiling of the river water at the ford?”
“It just came to me. I knew I needed something to counter what he was doing. I first thought of a simple shield, and then I decided on ice. When it started to form, I thought that if it were filled with snow, then the water would cool off, and we might make it across.”
“That was very quick thinking, given that you were in imminent danger. You did well today.”
“Thanks,” Lorit said. “I would have preferred a clean getaway myself.”
“Of course you would,” Zhimosom laughed. “Being able to deal with things that go wrong is a skill that serves a wizard well, you know?
“I’d rather not need that skill.”
“None of us do, son. None of us do. Now that you’re free of the temple, I want to direct you to a place where you can get some assistance. I want you to send the boy on to us, but I have another task for you that I need you to undertake before you head here.”
“What do you want me to do now?” Lorit asked. “Someone else need saving?”
“I will explain that later. For now, you need to head towards Ryeren Grove. When you get there, there is a small settlement. You will find an inn there where you will meet a Sorceress. She will help you get supplied and prepared for the next part of your journey. She will bring the boy to us while you take a separate path.”
Zhimosom started to fade, but Lorit was not finished. “Wait!” he called.
The shimmering stopped. Zhimosom looked stern. “What is it?”
“Why shouldn’t I eat the apple? You did not tell me.”
“Lorit, when you conjure something, it takes energy out of you. When you conjure food for yourself, it takes more energy to conjure the food than the food yields when eaten. If you eat it yourself, it has a double penalty. It will make you hungrier than if you had not eaten it. If you conjured food for yourself, you would soon starve to death.”
“What if I give it to someone else?” he asked, recalling the intense hunger he experienced earlier.
“That you may do. It will have no ill effect on them. But remember, you are using your own energy to create that food. That’s a losing game.”
“Thank you for explaining.” He didn’t think he was going to try that again, but he knew what his options were, should he need them.
“Will there be anything else?” Zhimosom asked.
Before Lorit could reply, the old wizard turned to mist and vanished.
Lorit was awakened to the trill of the morning birds as the sky lightened and the forest began its song. He turned over in his bedroll and saw Chedel already packing up.
“It doesn’t sound like you slept well,” Chedel remarked.
“No, I didn’t,” Lorit replied, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Do we have any food?” he asked.
Chedel looked through his pack, rummaging through the remains of their foodstuffs.
“There’s only a little cheese and some bread left. What are we going to do?”
“You ever do any hunting?” Lorit asked. He stood and looked around the woods. The underbrush was thick and lush. There should be an adequate supply of small game around.
“Not much,” Chedel replied.
“You know how to make a fire?”
“Yes, I can make a fire.
“Good, you make a fire, and I’ll get us something to eat.” With that Lorit headed into the brush. He pulled his knife from his belt and occasionally slashed a mark into the trees at head height to help him find his way back to the campsite.
When he returned, Chedel had a small fire going. Lorit inspected it to make sure that there was no smoke to give away their position, and decided it was good.
“That’s a nice fire,” he complimented Chedel.
“Thanks, my dad taught me how to cook, too,” he answered. “I wish we had some pots and pans, so we could make a decent stew.”
“Maybe later we can find a place to get some supplies,” Lorit remarked. “Today it’s rabbits.” He un-slung the rabbits he’d snared from around his neck and tossed them to the ground.
“I saw some roots over there,” Chedel said. “I think they would go good roasted with the rabbits. I’ll get some while you dress your kill.”
“Good idea,” Lorit answered. He brushed some of the fallen leaves aside and sat down to clean and prepare the rabbits.
Lorit had just placed the second carcass onto the fire when Chedel returned with the roots. He’d dug up a few wild sweet potatoes, and had them cleaned and ready for the fire.
“Looks like today we feast,” Lorit remarked.
“Good eating,” Chedel commented as he placed the sweet potatoes on the rocks he had positioned inside the fire ring.
Late that afternoon, the haphazard mix of old oak trees gave way to neatly organized fir trees that showed signs of meticulous care in their arrangement.
“We’re almost there,” Lorit said when they reached the line of fir trees. “This is what he told me to expect.”
“Where are we supposed to go once we get there?” Chedel asked.
“We’re supposed to find the inn. Zhimosom said there was only one, and we’re to wait there. Someone will contact us.”
“Over there.” Chedel pointed to a break in the trees where the evening sunlight illuminated the clearing. The trees had been cut away from the fields and a small town.
“That looks like the place,” Lorit remarked.
The forest path turned into a rough road that ran through the middle of the town. At first, there were a few scattered buildings along the route, with no marking. These were the homesteads of farmers who lived on the outskirts of the town. They gave way to buildings packed, side by side, with very little room between them.
Lorit spotted the tavern that Zhimosom said would be their ultimate destination. “That looks like the place,” Lorit pointed to the sign hanging from the inn.
“Good,” Chedel remarked. “I was getting tired of all this walking.”
A young girl came running out of the alleyway between the nearest buildings. “Please! You have to help me!” she called. “He’s after me.”
She ran up to Lorit and grabbed his arm. “Please, kind sir. Please, won’t you help me?”
Lorit examined the girl. She was about sixteen summers, with dirty long brown hair. She was dressed in the style preferred by city girls these days. Her face was smudged, and her dress was in disarray.
Foundling Wizard (Book 1) Page 6