A Forthcoming Wizard

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A Forthcoming Wizard Page 21

by Jody Lynn Nye


  Patha nodded over Magpie’s head. “Cut him loose.”

  A black-pelted werewolf leaped over the great stone. He knelt at Magpie’s side and slashed the knots holding his wrists bound. Magpie rubbed his hands and pulled the gag off. The black-furred werewolf took it from him and stuffed it into a pouch slung over his shoulder, then clipped the rest of his bonds.

  “I’m a friend,” Magpie said, climbing to his feet and making a bow to Patha. “I know many of your people. I have traveled a good deal in Sheatovra, near Bosska and Parouna. I’m a troubadour.” He stopped, feeling his cheeks burning. “I mean, I travel as a troubadour. I have bought and sold among your people. I bought silver from Jenada Chorich.”

  “I have heard you sing, then,” Patha said, showing her teeth in a friendly grimace. “I come from Parouna.”

  “Why have you taken us prisoner?” Magpie asked.

  “You have too many questions. Come. I am to let your friends go free. Tell me who among these you trust. We are to keep the others. Make haste. The fog will not last forever.”

  “Well, glory to the skies!” Lakanta said. “Come along, then.”

  Magpie crept along behind Lakanta and Patha, staying in the fraying fringes of the thick mist. The members of the Scholardom had all been tied to individual trees, far enough apart that they couldn’t see one another. Most of them were blindfolded and gagged. Few, if any, were wounded. Magpie suspected that those who showed bruises or torn habits had been too difficult to take down without a fight.

  Sharhava looked the most miserable. She had been tied up at the greatest remove from the others. Her scabbard was empty, and her hood had been thrown back on her shoulders. Her hair lay scattered and tangled around her face. Her hands had not been bound.

  “This one,” Lakanta whispered, pointing to Teryn, whom they found bound upright with each wrist tied to young trees five feet apart. She bore the signs of a good fight. A smear of blood had dried in a crust under her nose.

  “Fierce one,” Patha said, removing the cloth from her eyes first. “I am an ally.”

  Teryn nodded, and Patha untied the gag.

  “Teryn, sworn to Halcot of Rabantae,” the captain said stoutly.

  “Forget your taciturnity for once,” Lakanta said. “They are friends.”

  The guard captain looked past the werewolf to the trader, astonished. “I beg your pardon, then. Where is my soldier?”

  “Morag,” Lakanta said. “Black hair, big bony face. Same livery, of course.”

  Patha smelled Teryn’s outstretched sleeve briefly, and nodded to the left.

  “This way.”

  The royal guard sat huddled against his tree, only looking up blindly when Teryn spoke to him. The young werewolves sprang to free him. Whatever Morag thought of his situation, Magpie could not tell by his expression. He obeyed his captain’s order to deport himself calmly and with courtesy.

  “Where are our weapons?” Teryn asked, keeping her voice to a murmur. “Our horses?”

  “You will be given them when you leave us,” Patha said.

  Teryn nodded. “I acknowledge prudence.”

  Rin had been hobbled by all four legs and her hands had been tied behind her back, and was spitting mad by the time she was freed.

  “I am a Windmane,” she said, aiming a kick at the young female who cut the last tether on her back hooves. “You just wait until you try to visit our lands again. My royal brother will show you what it means to treat us roughly.”

  “They are allies,” Magpie said soothingly.

  “I know! Tildi told me. That doesn’t excuse it.”

  “Silence,” Patha ordered them. “You are not inaudible.”

  “My apologies,” Magpie said.

  “There’s another friend I haven’t seen,” Lakanta said. “A woman in white with a green cloak.” With a curt nod, Patha turned to glide away into the mist.

  Serafina sat in a small cave, under guard by two young females wearing glowing amulets. Her hands were not bound, nor was she blindfolded. She tried to rise when she saw Patha, her eyes blazing above her gag, but the werewolves had hobbles on her ankles. A sharp tug made her stumble and sit down again. She glared at the females. Magpie and Teryn hurried to release her.

  “I have been here for hours,” she spat. “I do not kill without reason. I have waited all this time for an explanation, but these two would say nothing except they wished me no harm, and I had no urge to race around in the dark.”

  “My apologies on your isolation,” Patha said. “We meant to sort out the humans as soon as we could, but we would trust only one who was not of the blue-and-white haters of all things not human.”

  “I am a wizard,” Serafina said. “I am a member of the council, not a Knight of the Word.”

  “Grolin?” Patha turned to her second-in-command.

  “She was the first one we took,” the black male said with a shrug. “She was not armed. We didn’t see her staff. She threw magic on three of my pride and broke their amulets before we took it away. They are still asleep on the ground. The blue-and-white ones were also throwing magic. It was an honest mistake.”

  “The paralysis will wear off soon,” Serafina said. “They will not suffer any lasting effects.” She scanned the group clustered around the small enclosure. “Where is Tildi?”

  “I don’t know,” Rin said, suddenly anxious. “She is not with you? We tried to get away from all the hurly-burly, and I lost track of her. She said these people were friends.”

  “How did she know?” Serafina asked. “She has little knowledge of scrying.”

  “She’s no more of a seer than I am,” Rin said. “We had a visitor in the rain.”

  “I was that visitor,” a voice said. Out of the mists, a slender woman appeared. Magpie thought that except for the newcomer’s tall, elegant ears she and Serafina could be sisters, with their golden skins and large, lustrous dark eyes. She exchanged a cheek rub with Patha. She turned to the companions. “Tildi is safe. I will bring you to her. Come quickly.”

  “What will become of these others?” Magpie asked.

  “We will keep them, as we agreed with our woods-cousin Irithe here,” Patha said. “They will be safe, if not happy. How comfortable they remain depends upon whether they can accept the inevitable. My young ones are very proficient at knot-tying. The angry ones will not escape, now that their illicit magic is removed from them.”

  “That is all I can ask,” the elf said, exchanging another cheek rub. “You have repaid your debt to me, and more beside.”

  “The balance is maintained,” Patha said with a twitch of her left ear. “I do not keep a tally scratch by scratch. I leave that to my bookkeepers. Go now. The more talk, the greater the chance the knights will hear us.”

  “Wait,” Magpie said as the werewolf female turned to go. “My lady Patha, there is one more I would have you free. A good friend.”

  “A half friend,” Irithe corrected him. “I have been watching you for some days. I can tell who has been well disposed to Tildi, even if you did not tell me. The young female with sea-green eyes.”

  Patha bared her teeth. “I know the one. She is one of the blue-and-whiteclad who believe we are monsters.”

  “It would take too long to tell, but she doesn’t believe the way they do,” Magpie said. He dropped to one knee before the werewolf chieftess and lifted his chin to show his throat. “Please.”

  Patha gave him a summing look. Her almond-shaped eyes regarded him with sympathy. “She is your love?”

  “Mine, forever,” Magpie said, “but whether I am still hers, I do not know.”

  “Come, then,” Patha said.

  The werewolf chieftess backtracked along the river path for a goodly distance, but stopped before walking uphill. She scanned the group behind her. “There are too many of you now, and you make too much noise.”

  “I will guide the prince,” said Irithe.

  “We will wait here,” Serafina said at once. “Your Highness, go alon
e.”

  Magpie nodded. “Thank you. We will return as soon as we may.”

  You are taking a risk,” Irithe whispered as she led him easily through the roiling bands of fog. “Her loyalties are divided, between you and the severe woman with the wounded hand. She might choose to betray you.”

  “I know Inbecca,” Magpie said. He managed to sound confident, but in his heart he dreaded putting the choice to her.

  Inbecca had not been blindfolded, but sat calmly watching the group of werewolves approach. Her studiously placid demeanor only broke when she saw Magpie among them. Just for a moment, hope lit her face, but she schooled herself back into expressionlessness. His heart swelled with pride for her. She was a queen to her marrow.

  He crouched down beside her and removed the cloth from her mouth. “Are you all right?”

  “I am. I was worried about you. Have you seen my aunt?”

  Magpie hesitated. “She is being cared for.” Inbecca must have noticed his ambivalent expression, but she only accepted his words. He nodded toward Irithe. “This is a friend. She has come to set Tildi free and help her take the book back where it belongs.”

  Inbecca’s eyes flashed.

  “She was the cause of the attack? We could all have been killed!”

  “None of you were in deliberate danger,” Irithe whispered. “If there were any deaths, it was accidental. You fought back with ferocity. It was not easy to capture you.”

  “Why capture us at all? Why not whisk Tildi away?”

  Irithe smiled slowly. “You surprise me, Princess.”

  “And me,” Magpie said.

  “I have been thinking of this for some time,” Inbecca admitted. “It seemed the obvious thing to do. It is good that it happened due to an outside agency. My aunt would never have let Tildi depart. It is well said that putting a scepter into a hand can corrupt the mind, if the mind has not been schooled in humility first—and that is no guarantee of wise governance. The book has been too much of a temptation. I would have it out of reach of . . . some people. I do not know why another attempt was made before.”

  “There were mitigating factors,” Magpie said. He was hesitant to accuse Sharhava on Tildi’s fearful words after the transformation of the beasts, though he was sure the smallfolk girl had no reason to lie. But Inbecca accepted his reasoning with a mere nod.

  “I’m not surprised,” Inbecca said dolefully. “I was not privy to the councils. My aunt mistrusts me. Perhaps she has reason.”

  “We must leave as soon as possible,” Magpie said. “You are not part of your aunt’s mad plans. Come away with us.”

  Inbecca frowned at him. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Would you have me so easily forsworn? I am a member of the order now, whether or not I like my aunt’s methods. I took a solemn oath.”

  Magpie felt ice in his belly.

  “It is as I told you,” Irithe said.

  “Then, tie me up again, too,” Magpie said resolutely, sitting down on the wet ground and placing his back against the tree. “I will stay. I will not leave Inbecca alone with these people. I would love to see the end of this tale—Mother and Father know I couldn’t help but write a song about it—but my loyalty is to Inbecca, first and foremost. I have sworn it.”

  “No, Eremi,” Inbecca said, tears starting in her eyes. “I released you when I took this vow. I have searched my soul to know what would happen if there was ever a parting of the ways, and we have come to it. You must go. I will stay here.”

  He gazed at her in dismay. “What of our love?”

  “It still exists,” Inbecca said. “It must only change its course. We have different duties, you and I.”

  “Don’t you love me anymore?” he asked ruefully.

  “More than life itself,” Inbecca said with a smile that was only for him. “I didn’t know what that meant before. It was always something that poets said. Now I know how precious it is. I would still make the choice. Go.”

  “And leave you here?” Magpie asked. His voice had thickened, making it hard to get words out.

  “I am not alone.” Her cheek creased in an irresistible dimple. “I still have my aunt. Eremi, someone with sense needs to stay with her. We will be all right. I know why you must do this. I only hope I will bear my captivity with as much grace as Tildi did hers. I have admired her greatly over these last many days.” She swallowed hard, and Magpie knew how difficult it was for her. “Tell her . . . tell her I wish her well in the hard task she has ahead, and that if we ever meet again I hope she will allow me to call her friend.”

  “I know she would be honored.” He bowed to her.

  “The honor shall be mine,” Inbecca said gravely, inclining her head with royal gravity.

  Irithe cut the bonds holding her to the tree. “You stay out of loyalty,” she said. “There is no need for other bonds.”

  “I thank you,” Inbecca said. She turned to the elf. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”

  Irithe’s mouth rose in the corner for one brief smile. “Gladly.” She rose and disappeared silently into the haze.

  Inbecca grabbed Magpie by the front of his tunic and pulled him to her for a last kiss. He wrapped his arms around her muddy habit and put all the love he had into that embrace. After an eternity and not nearly long enough, Inbecca drew back. She smiled at him tenderly.

  “Hurry and go. I want the others to think I am as upset as they are that you have fled. My aunt will be very angry that the runes are gone. But I must say it will be a relief not to fear that a passing butterfly will accidentally give me another nose.”

  Magpie leaned in for just one more kiss. “Farewell, my love. I will think of you every moment.”

  Inbecca dimpled. “Not every moment. I hope you will be looking after Tildi! Hurry!”

  She sat back against the tree and tried once again to look like a dejected prisoner.

  Irithe beckoned to him. Magpie crept after her. Within a couple of yards, the fog swallowed up the last glimpse he had of his love. He was running away from her yet again, but he could assuage his conscience slightly. This time he was not departing without saying goodbye. He had her permission and her blessing. She would not be embarrassed again in his absence. What cost, what cost would he pay for leaving her behind? He hoped she would be safe.

  Magpie emerged into the moonlit cloud where his companions waited impatiently.

  “Ooh! You startled a year’s growth out of me,” Lakanta said, putting a hand over a supposedly pounding heart. “Oh. You’re alone. Where’s the young lady?”

  Serafina turned from the edge of the towpath, her chin in her hand. She swept him with an analytical eye, ending with intense scrutiny of his face.

  “So she is not coming,” she said.

  “No,” Magpie said, forcing himself to accept the inevitable. Inbecca had chosen duty over her own happiness. He would probably have done the same in her place. In fact, he had done so. “I agree with her reasoning. She is more noble than I.”

  “Do not deride yourself,” Serafina said tersely. “We each must make our choice.” She turned to Irithe. “I have been patient, but I must know. Where is Tildi? My mother put her into my care. The council trusted me, and I have failed them. She was not to leave my sight for a minute.”

  “She is safe and among friends,” the elf woman said. “You will see her soon. We must travel this way.” Irithe turned so that the gurgle of the river was on her right and began walking. Serafina hurried to stay alongside her.

  “What friends? Where are they?”

  “You will see. We will be with them shortly.”

  “I know ‘shortly’ doesn’t mean the same to you that it does to me,” Lakanta said, opening her stride widely to keep up behind the two tall women. “How long is your ‘shortly’?”

  Irithe regarded her with amusement. “Perhaps two hours’ walk.”

  “Ah. That kind of shortly,” Lakanta said, stamping her feet well into her shoes.
“Well, are we walking there? I lost everything I had up that hill, including my horse.”

  “That is arranged.”

  Ahead, the fog parted to reveal Patha and a pack of the young werewolves.

  “I believe that these belong to you,” she said.

  Magpie heard the tick-tock of shod hooves on the pebbles before he saw the horses they were leading. Tessera must have caught his scent, because she threw back her head and nickered. He hurried to her and took the reins from the white-muzzled oldster leading her. The mare rammed her head against his chest, and he fondled her ears.

  “Good girl.”

  “A fine horse,” the old groom said, a gleam in his eyes. “Strong and fit. You’ll have many a good long year yet with her.”

  “I hope so,” Magpie said. He noted with gratitude that Tessera had been well curried. His tack had been cleaned and repaired, including a handspan’s length of his reins that he had noted before would need to be replaced sooner or later. “She’s cleaner than I am. You have cared well for her.”

  The yellow eyes flashed. “And you’d think that I’d not?”

  “I’d have expected nothing less,” Magpie said with a bow.

  “Fed her, too. Likes sweet feed and oats, doesn’t she?”

  “Too much than is good for her.”

  The oldster let out a bark that sounded like a laugh.

  Two more werewolves appeared. Each of them was loaded down with packs and gear that looked far too heavy for such slight creatures to carry. Patha grinned her sharp-toothed smile at Magpie’s surprise.

  “We are stronger than we look, in both shapes. It is useful for traders not to have to rely upon loaders or beasts more than we need to.”

  The pair dumped the bags into a heap on the path, then came to sniff each of the travelers intently. The smaller one, a female with a brown pelt, went back to the pile and returned with Magpie’s saddlebags, sword, and flute.

  “These smell like you,” she said. “I didn’t find anything else on the hillside. Is anything missing?”

  “No, thank you for your courtesy,” he said, buckling on the scabbard. He threw the bags over Tessera’s back and fastened them in place behind the saddle. “There, old girl. Good as new.”

 

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