The Monk's Habit (The Disinherited Prince Series Book 2)

by Guy Antibes

  “I’ve never learned how to freeze someone’s body.”

  “But you have stopped a horse,” the Abbot said.

  “I did, but it’s not a freeze spell. I patterned the air to act dense like water. I slowed the horse up until it stopped.”

  The Abbot furrowed his brow. “I must have misread what Val put in his report. You say you thickened the air?”

  Pol nodded. “I wished that the horse had to run in water. That would slow it down. So I made thick air. I don’t really know how I did it, but the horse itself wasn’t frozen. Sakwill made it so my limbs wouldn’t work. I barely had time to drop two of my knives.”

  The Abbot sat up. “You didn’t have the use of your arms?”

  “I didn’t, sir, until I was able to free up my left arm.”

  After shaking his head in amazement, the Abbot stood. “And I thought you were a Level Four.”

  “I’m not?”

  “You just haven’t been thoroughly taught. I don’t know what level you are. But let’s leave you at Four, and with Vactor as your personal tutor, you will learn spells as they come. Now about Sakwill—”

  “Don’t expel him. I think someone pushed him. There was something wrong with the way he challenged me.”

  “He really doesn’t like you, Pol. That has been thoroughly established,” the Abbot said.

  Pol thought for a moment. “If he used a Level Four spell, then someone had to have taught it to him, and that person might have used a little magic to persuade him to challenge me and convince Sakwill to use a sword and not his knives. Is that possible?”

  “That fits the pattern better, doesn’t it?” The Abbot chuckled. “I think you have the makings of an excellent Seeker. Jonness does, too. I’ll talk to others about the possibility. For now, I’m going to make you clean out the main courtyard as punishment for violating the terms of your duel.”

  Pol didn’t like the Abbot’s solution. “I don’t think that is fair, sir.”

  “Fair? I didn’t tell you what Sakwill got as his punishment. You definitely wouldn’t want to trade. But don’t worry, I won’t expel him.”

  Pol thanked the Abbot and went to the monastery’s library to finish the day studying for his other classes.

  ~~~

  Chapter Eleven

  ~

  POL SPENT AN HOUR A WEEK AT THE INFIRMARY receiving treatment for his heart. As winter turned into spring, his stamina had increased, but still nothing near normal. He walked across the wet courtyard to the administration building to attend his classes with Vactor.

  Vactor still taught mostly Third Level magic. The pair of them hadn’t yet touched many Level Four spells since Vactor insisted on Pol learning more breadth. Pol agreed with his tutor. He was amazed at how narrow his knowledge had been.

  Malden had had a different approach. The magician had challenged Pol to use higher-level spells without taking the time to present the wide variety of Level Two and Level Three magics. Patterns still remained the central core of what Pol learned, but even Pol’s understanding of patterns began to expand under Vactor’s new course of study.

  Pol walked into the familiar training room.

  “I have a letter for you.” Vactor slid it across the table towards Pol.

  “From Yastan?”

  Vactor nodded.

  Pol opened the envelope. He didn’t recognize the writing.

  Pol Cissert,

  I love your new name. Akonai says you are doing well, as I expected. I hope you are enjoying winter in Deftnis. It’s certainly milder in the Sand dukedom than Yastan.

  I have some news. Your father has written the Emperor demanding that you return Landon’s Shinkyan horse. Why he writes the Emperor is beyond me, but since he did, Hazett asked me to do something about it.

  I sent a letter to King Colvin notifying him that his son shouldn’t have been able to procure a Shinkyan horse. Therefore, the Emperor has seized it. It appears that Hazett has given it to you in compensation for obvious losses. You’ll find a certificate of title for the horse signed by Hazett himself. It includes an Imperial dispensation, since our treaty with Shinkya generally forbids the possession of such a beast.

  I also included an identity document in your new name. Congratulations! You are now an official citizen of the Baccusol Empire. I assume you already know the privileges of such a thing. It’s not much, but it’s all I can do for now.

  Far and Malden send you their love. Akonai and Valiso sent you their regards. There is a difference.

  You may show this to Abbot Pleagor, so he is aware of the formal ownership transfer and your new status as an Imperial citizen. I suggest that you get some copies certified by the Abbot and have him keep one set. There are those who would choose to ignore Imperial decrees.

  Let me know how you are doing. I’ll look forward to seeing you in Yastan when the time comes.

  Stay Healthy,

  Ranno Wissingbel

  Instrument to the Emperor

  Pol re-read the letter and the two documents that were nestled in the envelope with it. He handed it over to Vactor.

  His magic tutor whistled. “You do travel in high company. I can give this to the Abbot, and he’ll get the copies made. You do know what an Imperial citizen is?”

  Pol nodded. “Mistress Farthia was one. You are not required to bow or give allegiance to any King or Duke. An Imperial citizen is quite a privilege.”

  “There are other legal advantages. The Emperor has done you a great service by recognizing you. What about the horse? I don’t know much about them.”

  “Demeron, my Shinkyan stallion, and I can communicate. He can speak in my head. He’s not particularly smart for a human, but for a horse…”

  “Really? I’ll have to research that. When did you learn you could do such a thing?”

  “I used magic to guide him in Seeker training, and that seemed to set the link. He can get quite talkative. I try to exercise him as much as I can. He likes the stables, though.” Pol grinned. “Do many magicians have animals that can speak with them?”

  “Familiars like you read about in novels?” Vactor shook his head. “Nothing where words are spoken. It’s not related specifically to levels, but even non-talented people can communicate with their animals. I think this is different. Are there other horses like him?”

  Pol nodded. “There are, he told me. I think that’s why the Shinkyans don’t let the animals out of their country.”

  “Contraband,” Vactor said. “And the Emperor just gave him to you with the legal right to own him.”

  “I suppose. I wondered if my stepfather would be requesting my brother Landon’s horse back. I guess he knows I’m here.”

  Vactor nodded. “I’m sure he does. Sakwill was definitely influenced by someone from the outside, but whoever did it was very skillful to hide his manipulation. I can’t think of any other reason why he would have challenged you. Your enemies definitely know you are here.”

  “So, I’m still an enemy?”

  “You are until you find out that you aren’t. I think the royal families of North and South Salvan have no love for Poldon Fairfield or Pol Cissert.”

  ~

  Pol returned to his bed after an intense evening studying in the library and found the lock on his wardrobe open. Pol knew he had left it secured. He didn’t touch the mechanism and tried to see if magic had been applied. He thought he found traces of tweaking inside the lock, but he hadn’t looked inside it before.

  He sighed as he searched for the bag of jewels thrown in the back of his wardrobe when he first arrived. It was, of course, gone. The monastery thief had struck again. Pol wouldn’t let the thief go. He looked around his bed and couldn’t find any clues other than faint wet footprints drying on the flagstones. He quickly drew as accurate a picture as he could and followed the remnants to the door.

  All he could surmise was that someone had walked directly to his bed, unlocked his wardrobe, and stolen his most precious possessions, other than t
he amulet that still hung around his neck. Pol shook his head and sighed again. He walked out into the dripping night to see Jonness.

  The Seeker lived in a cell built next to the Seeker practice hall. Pol knocked on the monk’s door. Jonness answered, dressed in normal clothes.

  “Why do you bother me at this late hour? It had better be of great importance.”

  “The thief struck again. I found my wardrobe unlocked, and my mother’s jewels were stolen.”

  “Mother’s jewels?”

  “The jewels and ornaments that she brought from Listya to North Salvan. I took them with me when I fled Borstall,” Pol said. “Now someone has my mother’s heirlooms, and they don’t deserve them. I want to find the thief.”

  “You won’t be finding him tonight. I’m going to bed.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning. I found a wet footprint drying by my bed. The thief came into and left the dormitory, so it likely isn’t one of the fifteen acolytes I share space with. His foot is a little larger than normal. I was careful in drawing it.”

  Jonness rubbed his stubbled jaw. “Good work. You picked that up from Valiso?”

  Pol nodded. “I did. It’s not much to go on, but perhaps we can begin building patterns that we can sort monks and acolytes with tomorrow.”

  After a low chuckle, Jonness nodded. “We haven’t gotten to any of that yet. It doesn’t really come up in the first year. I’ll have the entire class help us.”

  “Won’t that tip off the thief?”

  Jonness shook his head. “I’ll talk to Garryle and have every monk and acolyte discreetly searched for contraband before they leave the island. So far, the thief hasn’t been so greedy as to steal obvious heirlooms.”

  ~

  True to his word, Jonness seized upon the theft to talk to the class about solving a crime. Pol could tell that the subject didn’t fit into what Jonness had been teaching up to now. He brought up patterns for the first time, giving an abbreviated explanation.

  Jonness nodded and had his assistants bring out a slate board filled with notes. “We will try to make some sense of this,” Jonness said.

  The class spent the rest of the time mostly observing a conversation between Pol, Jonness, and the two assistants. At the end something struck Pol as odd. There seemed to be two thieves. The monastery thief followed a different pattern than the one who stole his jewels.

  When the rest of the class left, Pol approached Jonness. “There are two thieves. The one who stole my things is not the monastery thief.”

  “Why?” Jonness said.

  “The monastery thief stole in the night, after everyone was asleep. All the possessions were not secured, so he was opportunistic, an acolyte who was looking for an easy theft.”

  Jonness nodded. “An acolyte or a monk, but one who didn’t have to break into anything to steal.”

  “The other used magic to break into my wardrobe.” Pol looked at the board and tried to complete the pattern. “None of the other thefts involved magic at all, so the initial thief could easily be a swordsman rather than a magician.”

  “So, why do you think magic was used in your case?”

  Pol thought for a bit. “Easier to perform. Faster with no destruction involved. I might not have noticed anything if Paki hadn’t been a victim. I insisted that he always lock his wardrobe, so I’ve been doing the same myself.”

  “What if the thief had a key?”

  Pol wondered about that. “If he had a key, and it was the same thief, then there would be a number of thefts that matched mine.” That made perfect sense to Pol as he said it.

  “I think you are right. So how should we proceed?”

  Pol furrowed his brow. “Why are you asking me? I’m the youngest in the class.”

  Jonness smiled and leaned against the worktable. “You are the most experienced, trained well in a short time by the best Seeker in the Empire.”

  “Val?”

  “Valiso Gasibli,” Jonness corrected. “He used to be sent out by the Emperor to solve crimes that stumped local authorities. He has quite a reputation in the countries where he has worked.”

  “Kell knows who he is.”

  “See?” Jonness clapped his hand on Pol’s shoulder.

  Valiso had quite a reputation, but then Pol thought that as a prince, he had lived a sheltered life, even more sheltered before Mistress Farthia became his tutor. Pol straightened up. If Valiso took the time to train him, then Pol would use what he knew.

  “We develop two patterns then. If we get the Seeker class to help solidify clues, then we can catch both the thieves,” Pol said.

  “That’s the spirit. You have to get to your next class, but rather than your nightly study in the library for the next week, come here, and we’ll work with my assistants to create the two patterns. In class, just observe your classmates. The first thief might be one of them. If you are right about the second thief, they know how to tweak inside a closed object. That means at least a good Third and maybe a Fourth Level magician.”

  “How high do you get when you aren’t considered an acolyte? Could either thief be a monk?”

  “Monks can be Thirds. One of my assistants is, but he is a good Seeker and a better teacher. Generally acolytes who are here four or five years can become monks. The only real difference is that monks are teachers. Acolytes who are here that long and don’t want to teach or serve in the monastery in a specific capacity are encouraged to leave.”

  “Darrol Netherfield?”

  Jonness nodded. “He’s only here because you are. He became bored at Deftnis, but he seems to like his new assignments. I think he wants to stay with you.”

  Pol smiled. “He says he’s my sworn man. I don’t think disinherited princes can have sworn men.”

  “Anyone can have sworn men. It’s the man, not always the title,” Jonness said.

  Pol became a little embarrassed where the conversation was heading. “I’ll be back tonight?”

  Jonness nodded. Pol heard him chuckle and call one of his assistants as he quickly left the practice hall.

  ~

  Pol yawned while Jonness went over the conversation he had with Pol after class. The assistants only added to the questions Pol had asked, but the pattern didn’t expand.

  “When did the last theft occur, before mine, that is?” Pol said.

  Jonness shuffled through the sheaf of papers that held all the information of the thefts.

  “Three weeks ago.”

  Pol thought about those regular thefts and wondered if they should look at those first.

  “Is there a pattern to those thefts?” Pol wondered if they could create a pattern to predict the next theft, ignoring his.

  Pol looked down at the dates and times on the page that Jonness pushed over to him. “Does something happen on the days after these thefts? Could there be a reason they are timed as they are?”

  One of the assistants shook his head. “Different days of the week and different intervals. How could that be a pattern?”

  Jonness took the paper back from Pol and laughed. He threw it to the assistant who had just spoken. “Think a little harder.”

  The assistant looked at the paper and back at Jonness with a shrug. “I can’t see it.”

  “I’ll give you a hint. Mancus.”

  Jonness had said the name of the port on the mainland across from the island. It meant nothing to Pol.

  “Oh. It’s not every week, is it?”

  Jonness grinned and slapped Pol on the back. “The monastery occasionally lets monks and senior acolytes across for the day. I know for sure the last two trips coincide with the dates here. Am I right?”

  The assistant turned red. “I go every time. It matches well enough. I’ll talk to Garryle tomorrow and get the logbook.”

  “Logbook?” Pol said.

  “We track monks coming and going from the monastery. We occasionally lose a monk or an acolyte, and it’s an easy solution to find if someone is missing and we have to g
o looking for them.”

  “When is the next trip?” Pol asked.

  “Three days from now. We will be prepared.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Twelve

  ~

  THERE WERE ONLY FOUR MONKS AND THREE ACOLYTES who had made trips on all the days after the thefts. Pol stood at the dock along with one of Jonness’s assistants registering the monks leaving for Mancus.

  Pol looked across at the shore. The boat bobbed gently on the waves as it left the dock, heading for Mancus. He wished the waves had been as mild when he crossed six months ago.

  “Two monks didn’t make the trip,” the assistant said, “and only one of the acolytes is headed over today.”

  They rode back to the monastery. Pol was happy to ride Demeron and catch up on the horse’s life. Demeron found it interesting enough.

  Jonness met them in the stables right after he dismissed the Seeker class that Pol should have been in that morning. “So perhaps we are down to three suspects. Let’s head over to the administration building.”

  All four of them sat in a small room with a table littered with three files.

  Jonness read the files, and the other three made notes. Pol couldn’t find anything incriminating. None of them came from families in apparent need.

  “Coming from a rich family may mean nothing. Right, Pol?” one of the assistants said.

  Pol nodded. “Maybe the thief needs the money for something.”

  “Garryle has arranged to have the three of them followed. We will need more indication of a motive before we can do something definitive,” Jonness said, and then looked at Pol. “What would a Seeker do in this situation? Our hands are somewhat tied by the rules of the monastery.”

  “Perhaps a Seeker would be in their rooms right now, going through their things to see if one had a motivation that fit into the thief’s pattern?”