A Forthcoming Wizard

by Jody Lynn Nye

  And indeed they were. In the time Magpie had fallen off his horse, gotten into a fight or two, and been carried down and tied to a tree, the werewolves had retrieved and wiped all the mud off his property. It all looked nearly as fresh as it had when he left his father’s castle weeks before.

  The other horses had undoubtedly met werewolves before, because none of them danced away skittishly from their temporary caretakers despite the strong smell of musk in their fur. Serafina’s white mare shone like silver. Even Melune’s rough coat gleamed like polished wood.

  The larger bearer, whose pelt was pale gray, brought swords and shields to the Rabantavian guards along with their personal belongings and Morag’s cooking gear.

  “These were in the pack animals’ panniers belonging to those humans, but when we scented your trace, we brought them out. We saw the royal crest.” The young male grinned. “My grandsire engraved the royal seal itself for your king on his coronation.”

  “Werewolf metalwork is known throughout the world,” Teryn said gravely.

  “And these things belong to the little one,” Patha said, extending a small knapsack. “Such a curious collection of goods to carry on such a journey. So many things, and each with a different scent.”

  “They carry memories for her,” Rin said. She took it and placed it in the saddlebags that had been returned to her. “She will be glad to have these back. I know how precious it is to have mementos of those who are no longer with us.”

  “Aye, that’s true,” Lakanta said.

  Serafina counted the horses. “One of our beasts is missing,” she said.

  “No, there isn’t,” the little trader said, frowning. “One for each of us to ride who needs to ride, and the one to carry the heavy bags.”

  “My mother’s mare!” Serafina said. “I want her with me. Mistress Patha, the other white mare and her saddle, if you please.”

  “It’ll be trouble,” Lakanta warned. “She’ll need someone to guide her all the time. It was one thing when she was running with all the other beasts of burden, excuse the reference, but she’ll be largely on her own now. She’d be better off staying behind.”

  Serafina looked at her coldly. “Did you not just agree that it was normal to want to have mementos of those lost?”

  “But you can’t tuck a horse away in a pouch!”

  The wizardess refused to be reasoned with. “I will not leave my mother’s steed here with the knights. She’s been with us since she was a foal. She has trusted my family to care for her all these years. My mare is her daughter.”

  Patha put an end to the argument by sending one of her assistants running. A few moments later, he reappeared, leading the white mare. Serafina took the reins.

  “Let me, sister,” Rin said. “We can speak to each other. I will guide her.”

  “Very well. We must go.” Serafina bowed in her saddle to Patha. “I thank you for your aid. It will not be forgotten.”

  Irithe nodded, and began trotting southward along the towpath. The companions kicked up their steeds.

  Magpie waited until they had ridden a few miles before he nudged Tessera up so she was neck and neck with Serafina’s horse.

  “This obduracy is not like you, honored one.”

  Serafina cringed slightly at the title.

  “I apologize. I have taken out my temper on those who do not deserve it.” She glanced back over her shoulder and let out an irritated breath. “That woman put a spell on me. On me! A member of the council! I cannot believe I rode complacently in her train, against my better judgment, letting her corrupt my runes, which were there to protect her as well as us. And then, to cloud my mind, so I would not undo her foul magic, was overstepping any bounds. She will pay for this indignity, I promise you that.”

  “She is paying, I assure you,” Magpie said, seeing Sharhava tied to the tree. “She is suffering. The runes have faded. Her dream has left her.”

  Serafina was too high-minded to rejoice aloud. Her lips thinned at another thought. “The runes have faded, but the wards are also gone! That means Tildi is not protected, either.”

  “She is safe,” Irithe called back.

  “How can she be? Do you know what you have done, breaking the spell open?”

  Irithe stopped and waited for them to catch up with her. She looked up into Serafina’s face. Magpie was struck again at how alike they were, but observed the wisdom in the elf’s that Serafina had yet to earn.

  “I know. She was revealed for a short time, but it was a sacrifice that needed to be made, to accomplish your rescue. Would you still be in the Scholardom’s power?”

  Serafina looked mortified. “No. Of course not. But she is out of my care.”

  “She is with those who can guard her against peril from the skies. I am taking you to her. You do not need to trust for long. You will have proof. Now, let us not waste more time.”

  “I am sorry,” Serafina said, humbled. “I do not mean to be ungrateful.”

  Irithe regarded her with a kind expression that made Magpie think of Edynn. “When you have the leisure to be grateful, you may be, if it will give you comfort. Now, let us go while the moon is high.”

  Behind them, howls rose to greet the silver disk. The mist was lifting.

  Chapter Twelve

  nbecca couldn’t help but cringe when the big, gray-furred female appeared beside her without a rustle of warning. The almond-shaped eyes, glowing yellow in the moonlight, seemed amused by her discomfiture. Thank the Mother that these were civilized beings, not the barbarian cannibals that some of the fireside stories made them out to be.

  “Come,” the werewolf whispered to her, extending a long, black-padded paw to help her up. “We must gather your fellows. We will return to our camp for what remains of the night.”

  “Are they . . . ?” Inbecca asked.

  “Well away.”

  Without another word, the female whisked around and glided away. Inbecca followed her more slowly in the monochrome twilight. It was less foggy than it had been but the ground was still sodden from the rain. Sticky mud clung to her borrowed boots and hung in big flakes all over her robes. The smell of wet wool, leather, and linen, coupled with the stink she had acquired during a long day’s ride, made her eyes water.

  When she saw her fellow knights, she realized that she was much better off than any of them. Many bore the signs of the battle.

  The chieftess took her by the shoulder and led her to a place along the rope.

  “Hold tight,” she said. “You will all be safe, I swear it.” She brought a short length of cord from a pouch and looped it loosely around Inbecca’s wrists. She tied it with a slipknot, such as one might use to fasten a child’s shoe. Inbecca could have undone it with her teeth in a twinkling.

  None of the others were being granted the courtesy of a cursory bond. In truth, Inbecca would have trusted none of her fellows to behave calmly. Some shouted angrily at the werewolves who came near them, even the ones who bandaged their injuries. Lar Vreia struggled and kicked out at her captors with one leg. The other, by the unnatural angle at which it lay on the ground, looked to be broken or sprained. Two females tried to set it, but Inbecca could see she was too frightened to allow them to help.

  “Stop fighting!” a large male snarled at her. “You’ll make it worse.”

  “Let her be!” Lar Romini shouted as he was half dragged to the cable. The young man’s tunic had been slashed, leaving glints of his mail shirt exposed. His gag hung around his neck. By the redness of his lower face, he had managed to loosen it himself and scrape off the first layer of skin as well. It took five of the werefolk to force him over and hold him near one of the trees while two more secured his hands. Inbecca observed wryly that if the lycanthropes didn’t care whether or not they hurt their captives it would have taken fewer of their number to manage them.

  Romini twisted suddenly. He wrenched one hand free. A bloom of blue light appeared on his palm, but it was hazy and translucent, not the lambency th
at had surprised and terrified Inbecca a few days before. He thrust it into the chest of the werewolf holding his other hand. A sound like a snapping branch erupted, and the male fell backward a yard. He sat on the ground looking dazed. One of the female healers left Vreia to examine him. Romini looked astonished, but undoubtedly because the werewolf hadn’t died.

  He kicked away from his captors and dashed for the edge of the clearing, hoping to disappear in the thinning mist. His bid for freedom was shortlived. Before he could take more than four steps, half a dozen werewolves jumped on him and bound him tightly with his hands behind his back and a hobble on his ankles that gave him a pace of about half a yard. He was tethered to the big cable by a stout cord around his waist.

  “Has anyone seen my aunt?” Inbecca asked as Loisan was pressed forward at claw-point and tied in place. The big man shook his head.

  “No, Lar,” he said. “I have seen none of you others until this moment. I pray she lives.”

  “I am sure she does.”

  Loisan glanced at the werewolves as they secured another knight behind them. “We’ve got to find a way out of this. Wait until we outnumber them. I’ve counted sixteen so far. How many do you reckon them?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.” Inbecca looked about her. Too many strange furred people, moving about so swiftly, to be counted. Gather your wits, she admonished herself. How often had she had to learn all the delegates of a party visiting Levrenn to honor her mother? To address one by the wrong name was a terrible social error. That female has a tunic that gleamed red in the returning moonlight. That one, who also wears red, has lighter fur and wider set eyes. The two males behind them were good friends or brothers, the way they roughhoused together. The one with black fur was missing half of the lower right canine. The gray one, the elder or wiser, stooped a little around the shoulders.

  Shortly, her court training allowed her to identify all of the werewolves visible in the clearing.

  “Fifteen,” she said.

  “We have the advantage two to one,” Loisan said. “They assemble us to a purpose. When we are all together, we must move!”

  Inbecca was distracted from Loisan’s words at that moment as her aunt was helped into the clearing. All the knights stopped struggling or moving to watch her. Sharhava walked stooped over like an ancient, shuffling her feet on the ground. Her escorts treated her with care, almost tenderly, and attached her to the long cable by a rope looped around her good hand.

  “Abbess!” Loisan exclaimed. Sharhava raised her head. Even at a distance, Inbecca could see her eyes glittering with hatred. Sharhava nodded sharply at her lieutenant. Meaning had passed between them.

  “Pass the word,” he said over his shoulder to Lar Vreia. “As soon as they try to move us, we strike.” She nodded. “Pass the word!” he told Inbecca.

  What choice did she have? She whispered his instructions to Lar Colruba, who had just been added to the chain ahead of her. The woman nodded and leaned forward to whisper to the next knight.

  “Lar Inbecca!” A more insistent voice intruded into the muttering.

  Inbecca looked around. Loisan leaned toward her, his eyes intent.

  “Your bonds! Your bonds have slipped!” he whispered. “Free me! Quickly, now!”

  Inbecca looked down at her hands. Patha’s knot must have fallen apart. She looked at Loisan, who urged her forward with his chin.

  “Hurry, Lar Inbecca, before they notice!”

  Inbecca dithered. If she aided the knights’ freedom, they might manage to overpower the werewolves and hie after Eremi and Tildi again. Yet she must not be seen as a traitor to the Scholardom.

  “Hurry!”

  The urgent voice jerked her into action. She edged backward very slowly, hoping that Patha and her people weren’t so busy with the last of the knights that they would not notice what she was doing. She longed to be caught. Keeping one hand on the cable, she felt behind her with the other.

  Loisan’s voice guided her. “Up a bit. Over to your right.”

  Suddenly her cold fingertips touched his warm hand. “There you go, now. If you work the bit of rope you can just feel there toward you, it’ll come loose, and I can get a hand free. There you go, now.”

  The werewolves’ ropes were dry and good, so it was easy to get her fingertip under the loop to which Loisan directed her. She strained to undo the knot. She could feel the man twitching impatiently for her to finish. She clawed at the strand, pulling it out like a shoelace, all the while keeping her face as still as she could.

  “There, now,” Loisan said. He bent down swiftly and pulled a thin dagger no longer than his finger out of the side of his boot. He slit the rope holding his other hand in place. Without hesitation, he turned and cut Vreia loose. She started on the bonds of the knight behind her. Then there were two more free, then four, then eight.

  “What goes on here?” Patha asked, suddenly deducing that mischief was afoot.

  Instead of answering, the knights turned and prepared what magic they had left and flung it at the werewolves.

  With no time for the strike to be coordinated, some of the furred beings were struck by three or four puffs of magic, some not at all. Those who were hit went flying backward, wailing their distress. The others leaped toward their attackers, claws out. Loisan and Romini took the two ends of the heavy cable and ran toward the werewolves with it, as if hoping to round them up like sheep.

  Patha snarled out a command in their tongue. The four werewolves upon whom the knights were bearing down leaped straight in the air, making Inbecca gasp with wonder. They came down on the other side of the line. Without hesitation, they thrust their way through the rest of the knights like a ball striking ninepins. Those who remained standing vanished into the trees opposite as if they had dissolved. The knights halted and went on guard, gazing around them warily, holding the rope before them like a shield.

  “Stand aware,” Sharhava ordered. “They are canny beasts.”

  Inbecca wanted to cry out that they were not beasts at all, but it wasn’t the time to argue.

  “We can’t just wait for them to strike again,” Rachine said. Her hair was as wild as her eyes. “We’re powerless!”

  “We are not,” Sharhava said. “We still have magic.” She held out her hand. A tiny blaze like that of a candle flame danced on her palm. Her face pinched as she concentrated, trying to get it to grow. Inbecca pitied her aunt.

  “The runes are gone, Abbess!” Ecris said. “What shall we do?”

  “We need our gear and horses. Then we will pursue the book. It cannot be hidden from us, you know that. Do not fear! We will bring it again into our care, and punish those who have separated us from it!”

  “I’ll find our weapons,” Loisan said, the voice of reason injecting a note of calm that quelled the rising panic. “You five, with me. They came from that way. It must be where they are keeping our goods.” He pointed with the small knife. The knights he indicated followed him.

  A howl erupted at the opposite end of the clearing. Loisan spun, the tiny knife in his hand. The others assumed a fighting posture. More howls sprang up at different points around the circle.

  Inbecca felt her heart begin to pound with fear. Perhaps she was wrong about the werewolves. Their intentions might not be friendly, now that the elf who had engaged their aid had gone. Why had she not fled with Eremi, as he pleaded with her to do? She could die here! She stooped to find a stick or a stone, anything she could use as a weapon. The knights prepared themselves to fight.

  As quickly as snuffing a candle, the moon went out.

  The knights all began to shout orders at one another, with Sharhava booming to be heard above all. Plunged into darkness, Inbecca didn’t know where to turn. A heavy body careened into her. She staggered, hands out. Her palms were scraped by the rough bark of trees. She felt her way up the bole, trying to regain her feet.

  All around her, the howls continued, coupled with the shouts of her fellow knights. She felt bodies fall by
her, heard the scuffle of battle. A long wail arose close to her ear, making her heart pound with terror.

  “Do not let the demon spell confuse you!” Sharhava said. “Strike! Strike!”

  Blue energy, like the afterimage of firelight, flared in Inbecca’s eyes. The howls coupled with cries of surprise, but no wails of pain or death. Without the book, the magic the Scholardom had enjoyed for weeks had dwindled to a mere squib, a wet firework. Instead, Inbecca saw glints of yellow eyes glowing of their own light.

  “How could that girl rob us of our power?” Sharhava shrieked. “She will pay! She knew the cost of my vengeance, and I will make her pay!”

  Inbecca had no time to wonder what her aunt meant. Hard hands covered with wiry hair caught her and thrust her hands roughly behind her back. Ropes wound around her body from shoulders to thighs, then a sharp push sent her to the ground again. Without her hands to save her, she fell hard.

  Other bodies joined hers. Swiftly, the entire Scholardom was recaptured and secured more firmly than before.

  To Inbecca’s surprise, all of the knights were tied together, in a bundle like twigs for the fire. Inbecca stood on tiptoes to find her aunt. Sharhava was two rows away from her at the front, glaring at their chief captor.

  Patha surveyed them with disdain in her golden eyes. “It will be easier if you cooperate, but no matter. Follow me, then. I am sure you are as tired and hungry as we. There is food to eat and water to wash with at our destination. Come along.”

  She thought it would be tricky to maneuver the mass of humanity downslope to the moonlit towpath, but the werewolves managed to keep the group together and upright. Her fellows were too angry or exhausted to do more than try to stay on their feet, so the swearing and vowing of vengeance was kept to a minimum. Inbecca had to trust what she could feel with the toes of her boots, since while she was on the move she could see nothing but her neighbors.

  After what seemed like hours, Patha called a halt. The pressure on Inbecca’s rib cage lessened as the ropes holding them all together were untied. The knights staggered away from one another, and were led instantly to the base of individual trees, where they were secured with the same care as before. Inbecca pleaded with the two gray-furred individuals who came to claim her.