Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “Of course, of course!” one of the ministers replied, ecstatic upon his acceptance. “Hopefully by springtime we’ll have arrived at a permanent solution and everyone can again get on with their lives.”

  Kings Justin and Cedric were pleased with the arrangement, having observed both the military prowess and administrative competence of the young man over the last several days. Eucádus and Ranen congratulated him as well, knowing the fragile state of the populace would be more than reassured by the choice of leader.

  “But despite my new authority, I would very much appreciate your opinions about confronting Drogin in the near future,” Captain Silas commented to both Kings later that afternoon as they sat with him in a small study on the west side of the estate that would serve as his office. A splash of red-orange light from the setting sun entered a multi-paned window and pleasantly tinted the room warmed by a roaring fire. Eucádus, Captain Tiber and some of the defense ministers attended the meeting as well. “You have both expressed your intentions that a trip to Zaracosa should be organized in short order. Give me a suggested timeline.”

  King Justin and King Cedric glanced silently at one another as if knowing what the other was thinking. King Justin turned to Captain Silas while shifting slightly in his chair. “How does tomorrow sound? Too soon?”

  Eucádus grinned upon hearing the response, noting the same amusement in Captain Silas’ eyes. But in order to keep a sense of decorum for the first major decision in his new station, the captain simply nodded. “Tomorrow it is. We’ll sail over on several of the ships brought here during the war with a well armed contingent. I don’t want to fight Drogin, but I certainly want to give him something to think about as he watches us arrive on his shoreline.”

  Five ships departed at midmorning the following day across the choppy waters of Lake LaShear, sailing for Zaracosa, the capital city of Maranac. With white sails inhaling a freshening breeze under milky gray skies, the vessels charted a course to the southeast for the short journey. Aboard each ship were armed soldiers who had recently fought and defeated Drogin’s army, though nobody expected another battle today as the men were really there for show. Captain Silas, along with Kings Justin and Cedric, would lead a delegation to speak with Drogin and his representatives about relinquishing power and compensating the victims of Rhiál for his crimes against them. Eucádus, Ranen, Prince William and Captain Tiber would accompany them to the meeting.

  “I don’t expect any concessions on Drogin’s part,” Captain Silas remarked as the seven of them stood on deck and gazed out upon the turquoise surface of the lake as a light spray of water misted the air. “We may have to take the fight to him one of these days if we’re ever to remove that scourge from this region. His alliance with Vellan must not go unpunished.”

  “Indeed not,” King Justin replied, one hand resting upon the starboard railing as the lead ship gently rose and fell upon the low waves. “But considering the terrible defeat Drogin suffered, and in the process losing much of his manpower from the Northern Isles and Kargoth, maybe he’ll be in the bargaining mood.”

  “Agreed,” Eucádus said, wrapped in a cloak whose ragged edges fluttered in the breeze. “I’m sure the regular folk of Maranac are tired of war and may not be looking too kindly upon their leader right now.”

  “If ever,” Ranen interjected, eliciting a chuckle from William.

  “So perhaps Drogin will accept some sort of arrangement for his own sake,” Eucádus continued. “Even some of his most loyal supporters might be abandoning him in light of his recent defeat.”

  “I hope you’re right,” King Cedric replied, his back to the breeze. “But even in defeat, I don’t know if Vellan will let Drogin give up this corner of Laparia so easily. He could very well send in reinforcements once he gets word from Zaracosa. Vellan has more men in Kargoth who have drunk from the waters of the Drusala River and will mindlessly do his bidding. And additional troops from the Isles will again pole up the Lorren River to his lair come springtime.”

  “Let’s not forget the Enári,” Captain Tiber added to the somber discussion. “We already know they have helped the Islanders take Montavia as Prince William can describe in deadly detail. Why would Vellan not send some this way if he is desperate for a victory? No doubt there are plenty to spare in Kargoth.”

  “They are a tough and efficient fighting force,” William said, recalling the predawn assault fifty days ago on Red Lodge. But after all he had been through since, it seemed like a long and dreary year had passed him by and not a mere fifty days.

  After everyone had spoken, Captain Silas folded his arms and shook his head, a tiny grimace upon his face. “By our glum words, one might guess that Drogin had won the recent battle and that we are on our way to plead with him. Let us be patient and wait to see what lies across the water before we chart our course with that usurper king. I do not want to carry such pessimism with me when we disembark in Zaracosa,” he said as the eastern shoreline slowly came into focus. “I suspect the atmosphere there will be miserable enough when we paddle to the docks.”

  The five ships lowered their sails and dropped anchor offshore early that afternoon. The low sun peeked through ragged breaks in the clouds. Many of the soldiers on board stared at the shoreline, never having expected to look upon Zaracosa while Drogin still ruled. Directly ahead and to the right was a line of wooden docks extending into the lake along the gentle curve of the water. The terrain gradually rose higher to the left where a thick support wall of gray stone had been built along the lake’s edge, now buffeted by a series of low waves. At the top of the wall overlooking Lake LaShear was King Drogin’s estate, a five-story building with several more levels below ground constructed of the same gray stones as the wall. Its many arched windows reflected the sullen, gray skies and the occasional spark of sunshine. A few pine trees towered nearby. Several flags of Maranac affixed above the slate rooftops snapped in the breezes rolling off the water.

  Though all the observers on the ship were impressed by the sturdy elegance of Zaracosa’s capitol, what attracted their attention most were two unusual sights. First, not a single one of King Drogin’s emblems, the orange, brown and black flag he created to celebrate his ascension to the monarchy, could be spotted anywhere on or near the estate. Second, a large crowd of people milled about the docks and in front of the royal estate as if all the homes and shops of Zaracosa had been emptied. But whether this was a protesting mob or merely curious spectators, none could tell from this distance.

  “The roads are boiling over with people,” King Cedric commented as he and King Justin leaned against the ship’s railing and gazed toward shore. Prince William stood next to them, thrilled to have made the trip across the lake yet wary of the sight before them.

  “Surely those people haven’t gathered to welcome us, have they?” he wondered aloud, glancing at the two Kings for an answer. “Or perhaps to attack us?”

  King Justin shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, my boy. I half expected a line of armed soldiers on horseback–not this.”

  “Nor did I,” Captain Silas remarked as he walked toward the inquisitive trio. “And before I allow any one of you gentlemen to step foot on shore, I’m sending a scouting unit ahead to determine the cause of the frenzy upon the mainland. They are heading out now as we speak,” he said, pointing over the side of the ship where two large rowboats filled with men were paddling to shore. “As no one in Drogin’s forces was hurrying out on boats to confront us, I’m assuming we will at least be allowed to send forth some scouts without causing any provocation.”

  “We’ll soon see,” King Justin cautiously replied as they watched the two boats draw nearer to shore.

  In time the boats glided alongside one of the longer docks and tied up as a crowd of spectators hurried over to them. Slowly the men made their way out of the boats, but as he watched from the ship, King Justin couldn’t tell if they were being helped onto the dock in a friendly manner or pulled up by force. Moments later,
the scouting party was surrounded by a throng of locals as they were escorted off the dock and into the crowded area below the estate.

  “I don’t know what to make of that,” he said. King Justin glanced at Captain Silas for his interpretation. But before he could reply, Prince William shouted and pointed to shore.

  “Look! Two of the men have returned and are climbing into one of the boats.” He leaned over the rail for a better view.

  “Careful so you don’t tumble over,” King Cedric warned. “None of us want to fish a prince out of the water.”

  “I’ll be fine, sir,” he replied, gazing intently as the boat grew nearer with every stroke of the paddles. “Here they are!” he excitedly called when the two men were in vocal range.

  “What have you to report?” Captain Silas shouted down. “What’s happening over there?”

  One of the men in the boat looked up with a wide grin. “Only good news, Captain Silas! But it would take too long to explain here. You must go ashore at once.”

  “There is about to be a public announcement,” the other man added, cupping one of his hands near his mouth so that his voice carried through the breeze. “We’ve timed our arrival at a most opportune moment.”

  Silas looked at the three men of royal blood standing before him, an amused smirk upon his face. “It’ll be quicker for us to learn what’s going on by paddling to shore ourselves than by extracting any specifics from the scouts below. Shall we proceed?”

  A short time later, five more rowboats eased up to the docks. Captain Silas had barely stepped out of his vessel when he was warmly welcomed by several of the local townspeople who had been curiously watching as the small crafts drew near. Most of the crowd though, continued to mingle around the royal estate nearby as if some national celebration were underway.

  Eucádus stepped out of another boat onto the wooden dock and offered a hand to Prince William and King Cedric who both had paddled over with him. Ramsey and Ranen disembarked from the back of the vessel and looked in awe at the growing throng.

  “What brings half the population of Zaracosa out of doors this afternoon?” Ramsey asked a middle-aged man in a tattered coat and mud-stained boots. His iron gray hair was tousled by the wind.

  “There’s to be an announcement soon from the royal balcony,” he excitedly said, pointing almost midway up at King Drogin’s estate. “At least that’s the rumor around town. Supposed to be good news, I hear.”

  “About what?” Prince William asked amid the constant slap of waves against the dock pilings.

  “Not sure,” the man said as he curiously eyed the new arrivals. He looked out at the ships from Maranac on which they had traveled. “Are you folks anybody important?” he added, glancing at King Cedric who stood nearest to him.

  William’s eyes popped open as wide as windows at the perceived slight toward the King. “Don’t you know whom you’re addressing, sir?”

  But King Cedric immediately silenced William with a stern glance and then smiled at the man. “I wish to thank you for greeting us here, my dear sir. It is a testament to the kindness of the citizens of Maranac that we hear so much about.”

  “Yes, of course,” Prince William hastily added. “That’s what I had meant to say.”

  The man was pleased by the King’s compliment yet scratched his head, mildly perplexed. “So you folks aren’t citizens of Maranac even though you’ve arrived upon our ships?”

  “No, we’re not,” Eucádus jumped in as he edged over to the King’s side. He sensed no trouble from the man but wanted to take no chances. “We’re visitors from various nations and wish to meet with an official from the estate. Could you lead us there?”

  The man burst out laughing. “Meet with an official? Good luck with that, my friends! Access to the royal estate has been prohibited since the stunning events of yesterday. If the folks of Zaracosa aren’t allowed through the main doors, I don’t see how you strangers washing up on our shores will be permitted inside.”

  “What happened here yesterday?” King Justin asked upon hearing the remark. He had just strolled up the dock, his cloak wrapped tightly about him as a steady breeze blew across the water.

  But as the man was about to answer, a frantic voice drifted through the nearby crowd. Suddenly an official from the royal estate, a tall, thin man wearing an ill-fitting, brown cap, squeezed his way through the onlookers and emerged through the front line.

  “A little elbow room please!” he snapped in frustration to the gawking bystanders, eliciting a few grins from some of the visitors. The man looked up at the new arrivals and smiled, unduly excited by their presence. “Welcome to Zaracosa, one and all. I was informed by your advance party that you would be visiting shortly, and your timing couldn’t have been better! There’s going to be an important announcement shortly.”

  “So we’ve heard,” William said.

  “But we haven’t been informed about specifics,” Eucádus added in a friendly tone. “Could you let us in on the surprise?”

  “I’ll do better than that. I’ll take you to a prime viewing spot if you would follow me. I had a small location immediately cleared out when I learned of your visit. I’m Minister Pico, by the way.” He extended a hand to Eucádus. “You must be Prince William.”

  Eucádus arched his brow in amusement, pointing at William. “He is the prince you’re referring to,” he said as William raised his hand and waved. Many nearby were pleasantly surprised that a royal prince from anywhere was gracing them with his presence. “Meet Prince William of Montavia, grandson of King Rowan.”

  Minister Pico blushed with embarrassment. “My apologies, Prince William. I had just assumed that–”

  “No apology needed,” William replied, doing his best to keep a straight face and make his host as comfortable as possible.

  “Thank you, sir.” The official turned to Eucádus once again, smiling awkwardly. “And so that I don’t make a second such flub, I will kindly beseech you to provide your own introduction. You must either be King Justin of Arrondale or King Cedric of Drumaya, both of whom I was told were aboard these ships.”

  As the bystanders gasped that not one, but two kings were also in their midst, a buzz of excitement and fresh rumor shot among the gathering at lightning speed. Eucádus, at the same time, glanced at the minister and slowly shook his head to correct him, upon which Pico turned an even darker shade of red. Kings Justin and Cedric, however, brushed off the misunderstanding with amusement, content to observe Eucádus’ gracious effort to smooth the matter over. But before the minister could speak again, Eucádus raised a hand to gently silence him.

  “Sir, my name is Eucádus. I hail from the nation of Harlow in the Northern Mountains, though I serve in no governmental capacity. But please allow me to quickly introduce everyone else here so we may walk with you to the royal estate,” he requested, leading the man to each member of the party individually, beginning with King Justin and King Cedric. “And currently representing the citizens of Rhiál, I am pleased to present Captain Silas.”

  “An honor to meet you,” the minister said as he shook his hand. “And how is King Basil these days? I’m guessing that after the battles three days ago, he has much to keep him busy in Melinas and could not spare the time for this trip.”

  “I regret to inform you, Minister Pico, that our beloved King Basil died three days ago,” Silas replied to the genuine shock of the gentleman.

  “My profound condolences on the loss of such a great man,” the minister said. “But a battlefield death is an honorable death, one which I’m sure will be recorded and studied for history’s sake.”

  Captain Silas leaned in and spoke softly to the minister. “King Basil succumbed to a long illness. Still, he died an honorable death.”

  “To be sure,” Pico replied, swallowing hard.

  The minister didn’t speak another word until after he shook hands with each of his remaining guests. When the introductions were over, he invited everyone to follow him to the mai
n gates of the royal estate which were now wide open to the public. Though the distance was short, it took almost ten minutes to maneuver through the jostling spectators before they arrived at the viewing spot Pico had arranged near a line of white birch trees. He pointed to a semicircular stone balcony jutting out of the second floor of the estate where the announcement would shortly be made. Everyone in the assembly looked upward, waiting for someone to step forward.

  “It’s quite exciting what is planned,” Minister Pico said to the dual Kings who stood on either side of him. “But as we are on the cusp of the proclamation, I will not spoil the surprise for either of you.” He glanced over his shoulder and addressed Captain Silas who stood next to Eucádus. “And you, captain, will be especially interested in the recent developments which we can talk about later.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “But in light of your news about King Basil, I think it would be better handled in the privacy of the estate.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  “Well then, it seems we’re due for a string of magnificent revelations,” King Justin replied. “It’s fortunate indeed that we arrived when we did.”

  “News has spread this way from up the coast that each of you and your armies were instrumental in defeating Drogin,” Pico informed the two Kings.

  “I give all the credit to my men,” King Cedric replied, “as I’m sure Justin will, too.” He gazed long and hard at the minister before looking askance at King Justin who was engaged in the same line of thought. “Minister, since you’re aware of Drogin’s defeat, and because we were not harassed nor detained upon our arrival, can I conclude that King Drogin is no longer in charge around here?”

  “You may,” Pico confirmed. Just then a glass paneled door on the balcony danced with the reflections of somber daylight, indicating that someone was opening it from inside. “But I see that the address is about to begin. All of your questions will be answered forthwith.”