Caldurian recounted stories about Arileez’ banishment as a young boy from the Valley of the Wizards and of his imprisonment on the island of Torriga. King Justin listened with fascination, yet felt pity for the extraordinary being who had wounded him and nearly usurped his monarchy.
“You and Vellan used and manipulated him,” the King said in a reproachful tone.
“We did,” he shamefully admitted. “After I gave him the potion to break his confinement spell, the Umarikaya was happy to do our bidding, never having a chance to live life on his own terms.”
King Justin felt a heightened sense of distrust for Caldurian despite the fact that he was speaking freely. He provided details of Arileez’ death in the Citadel corridor, shocking Caldurian with images of the wizard’s violent demise at the points of several swords.
“I almost wish we had never used Arileez in this manner,” Caldurian admitted.
“So do I. He nearly killed me with a vicious swipe of a talon,” the King said, telling Caldurian about the stunning transformation. He rolled up his sleeve and showed Caldurian the faded remains of his injury. “An odd thing that such a wound would heal so fast. This Arileez was a unique fellow indeed.”
“Indeed.”
Caldurian stared at the wound with growing interest, thinking immediately of the potion Vellan had created to release Arileez from his island imprisonment. The remaining drops of that liquid were in a small glass vial deep inside one of his cloak pockets. Vellan had added a second spell to the potion that would have slowly diminished Arileez’ powers, rendering him a mere mortal. But death had saved Arileez from that confining fate. Caldurian assumed that that second spell had somehow reversed the damage Arileez had inflicted upon King Justin. But he said nothing about that second spell or his theory, thinking it best to keep them secret for now, or at least until revealing the information could work to his advantage.
As they drank their tea, Caldurian smiled inside with grim amusement, knowing how lucky King Justin was to have been wounded by Arileez himself rather than by the sharp edge of a knife or the point of a sword wielded by the wizard’s hand. The King would never have recovered as swiftly, if at all, had he received a blow from either of those inanimate metal objects rather than from Arileez’ own bone, skin and blood in the guise of a sharp talon. A most fortunate injury, he lightly mused as he poured himself more tea from the steaming kettle between them.
After their meal and conversation, King Justin and two of his guards escorted Caldurian to his room on an upper level. Two other guards kept watch outside the door while another pair was stationed at the entrance to the corridor. The King had even placed two additional sentries outdoors below the window to Caldurian’s room as an added precaution. As one of the guards unlocked the wizard’s door and opened it, Caldurian turned to the King.
“Thank you for lunch. I had feared it might be my last meal,” he said with grim humor.
“Your fate is still to be decided,” King Justin replied. “Your offenses are numerous and against many throughout Laparia. Others will be consulted before your sentence is pronounced.”
Caldurian nodded. “I suppose I should be grateful, but I suspect there will be a noose around my neck or an arrow through my heart when all is said and done.”
“It will be a collective judgment,” the King replied. “Nothing will be settled until after the turn of the year.”
“Then I still have plenty of time to sit and think through the winter months.”
“It is a long road to spring, Caldurian, so use your time well.”
“And it is a long road to Kargoth,” he said with a hint of defiance in his voice. “You do the same as you plan your next move.”
King Justin gazed warningly at the wizard. “Do not think that we won’t be monitoring you closely. Tolapari’s powers will return before yours, so we will have a gauge to measure you by.”
“I had no doubts that you’d do just that,” he replied.
The King sighed. “Good day, Caldurian.”
As he turned to leave, Caldurian called to him. “One more thing, sir. You never told me how you found out about my spy in your council chambers. I’ve at least earned that bit of knowledge after all I revealed to you over lunch, have I not? I’ll suffer a fitful sleep without the answer.”
The King turned around, silent for a moment. “I see no reason to keep the information from you any longer. After all, I will have my guards thoroughly examine every room from now on before any such meeting is ever convened again.”
“Wise move,” he quipped. “So how did you find out?”
“Quite simple. Madeline told me.”
Caldurian’s jaw dropped. “You have her imprisoned in the Citadel, too?” Surprise, and a hint of anger, was evident in his darting eyes. “Where is she? Can I speak to her?”
King Justin raised a hand. “I slightly misspoke. Madeline didn’t tell me directly, but had told her cousin who spoke to me afterward. You trained Carmella for a short time, so I’ve learned.”
“That was twenty years ago,” he replied, recalling the tumultuous time at Carmella’s house. “She didn’t have the aptitude that her cousin does in the magic arts. I haven’t seen Carmella since I fled from her abode in Red Fern.” Caldurian grinned. “Pity. Had I trained her longer and coaxed her to my side, she wouldn’t have brought that medallion to you but to me instead. Then again, Carmella had a nasty streak of honesty and good nature running through her, so my efforts would probably have been in vain.”
“Probably. From what I learned about Madeline, Carmella and her cousin are opposites in so many ways.”
“Where is Madeline now?” Caldurian pleaded to the monarch with saddened eyes. “I truly would like to speak to her, even under the watchful eyes of your guards if you so order. I’m pleased that she wasn’t killed during the assault.”
“She is not here,” the King admitted, carefully studying the wizard’s expression. “Madeline is on her way to Kargoth.”
“What?” Caldurian stood with his back to a corner of the doorframe, his mind reeling with images of Madeline meeting with Vellan and serving as his new apprentice. “Kargoth? Are you sure?”
The King nodded, noting how upset Caldurian seemed upon hearing the news. “Madeline and Mune left for Kargoth after they spoke to Carmella outside the Citadel. Their meeting with her wasn’t on the friendliest of terms. Madeline and Mune fled after Commander Uta’s assault failed.” Caldurian slowly fumed, taking it all in. “Uta and most of his men didn’t survive. The remainder of his troops were taken prisoner and provided me what information they could.”
Caldurian stared at the floor for some time before speaking. “So Madeline chose to seek out Vellan rather than return to me in Montavia.” He looked up, visibly hurt. “She abandoned me.”
“Carmella told me that her cousin was rather disillusioned with the current state of affairs,” King Justin said.
“Disillusioned? Really?” Caldurian’s words oozed bitterness and betrayal. “So she crawled to Vellan–and that little traitor Mune went with her. I–” He disgustedly waved a hand through the air. “I wish to be left alone please. I need to think.”
“Very well.” King Justin indicated to his guards to close the door and lock the wizard inside. “We’ll talk again, Caldurian. As I said earlier, it is a long road to spring. I’m sure you’ll have much to decide in the interim.”
“Undoubtedly,” he muttered, stepping into his room as the door was closed and locked behind him.
King Justin sighed, tired from his long conversation and battle of wits with the wizard. He dismissed the two guards who had accompanied him to lunch, telling them that he wanted to wander the corridors alone to clear his head. He made his way to a quieter, less frequented wing of the Citadel, enjoying the hint of cool air wafting through the passageway as the oil lamps fluttered hypnotically and cast restless shadows upon the walls. The light behind the windows was gray and dimming as twilight softly encroached upon the frozen
hills and snow-covered pines of Morrenwood.
“There you are, Justin,” a voice echoed between the narrow walls moments later. “You’re late for our meeting.”
The King looked up as Tolapari made his way down the corridor, his footsteps ricocheting off the stonework. The wizard greeted him with a smile.
“Dear me, it completely slipped my mind,” the King replied.
“Not to worry. You’re not that late,” he said, studying the King’s faraway expression. “You look out of sorts, Justin. Did your meal with Caldurian not go well?”
“On the contrary. I learned much.” The two walked along the passageway. “It was taxing at times as I wasn’t always sure whether he was speaking the truth or deceiving me. But it was worth the effort. Next time I’ll invite you along.”
“I look forward to it, I think.” Tolapari cracked a smile. “After casting the âvin éska spell, I don’t think Caldurian is anxious to see me yet. Perhaps in a week or so.”
“Perhaps.”
“In the meantime, we must discuss preparations for the upcoming war council. It is only fourteen days away.”
“I don’t expect this gathering to be as large or as boisterous as the first one. After all, the convening parties are all in agreement that we must confront Vellan this spring. All that’s really left to do is plan the particulars. It should go rather smoothly.”
“But there are quite a few particulars,” Tolapari said. “The biggest of which is the very individual you’ve just lunched with.” He halted beneath a shadowy archway framed by the glow of light from the adjoining corridor. “What do you plan to do with him?”
King Justin looked about, making sure that no one else was in earshot, but the connecting passageways were both empty save for the two of them. He lowered his voice anyhow, his ice blue eyes roiling with concern. “What do I plan to do with him? I do not trust Caldurian anymore than I can manipulate fire in my palms or cast a sleeping charm upon another. Even at his most sincere, I question the very words uttered by his lips. I think that wizard is nearly as dangerous without his powers as with them. He could probably cause just as much mischief whether wandering the roads and woodlands of Laparia or sitting behind a locked door in the Citadel.”
Tolapari appeared nonplussed. “So you’re going to…?”
The King smiled as if the answer was obvious. “I’m going to take Caldurian with us when we march to Kargoth. I’ll always distrust the man, so I might as well keep him at arm’s reach under my careful watch. Besides, maybe he’ll be useful to our cause.”
Tolapari appeared doubtful. “How so?”
“Caldurian feels that his friends have betrayed him. Maybe we can use that division in his ranks to our advantage.”
“I don’t know,” the wizard replied. “If it comes to choosing sides, in the end I think Caldurian would run back to his friends in spite of their differences. Tread carefully in those waters, Justin.”
“That’s why I have you to advise me,” he replied. “You can always cast the âvin éska spell again should Caldurian regain his powers and come after us,” he lightly added.
“That’s a dangerous proposition,” he warned. “When Frist trained me in the finer points of the spell, he said it should never be used twice on the same person as its debilitating effects would grow more potent for both the purveyor and the recipient. And the spell shouldn’t be cast by the same person without several intervening seasons to ensure a proper recovery. It’s a spell of last resort.”
“I jest, my friend, because of the seriousness of our plight. So I will utilize your eyes and vast wisdom instead to closely monitor Caldurian over the next few months. I need to know just how tight a rope to keep around him when we depart for Kargoth.” King Justin signaled for him to continue down the corridor. “Now we can discuss an even more pressing issue.”
“And what is that?” the wizard asked ominously.
“Why, what to feed and where to house all the ancillary guests when the principals meet for the second war council,” he replied, chuckling. “They certainly kept the Citadel kitchens and staff in a whirlwind during their last visit!” King Justin ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I can’t wait until spring, Tolapari. The campaign against Kargoth will seem so much easier than the planning for it.”
“Aren’t they all?”
The King nodded wearily as their footsteps gently echoed down the darkening corridor. “Regardless of the weather, I think it’s going to be a long winter, my friend. A very long winter.”
END OF PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
LOOSE THREADS
CHAPTER 78
An Invitation to Dinner
Katherine Durant stood behind a tall pine in the frosty autumn darkness, her eyes fixed upon Dooley Kramer’s house just up the road. She was hidden in a stretch of woods on the same side of the dead-end lane as his small, dilapidated dwelling, having watched the place since long past dinnertime. Most residents had retired inside for the night. The streets lay quiet and vacant. The Fox Moon, two days past full, peeked over the eastern horizon behind a veil of inky clouds. Midnight, still hours away, approached with catlike stealth.
Katherine shifted her position, careful not to rustle any dry leaves or snap a twig. Dooley still remained inside his single-story house, a few of its windows glowing dully behind cracked wooden shutters. Zachary Farnsworth, who lived at the far end of the narrow street on the opposite side, had wandered down to his neighbor’s house half an hour ago. The leaf-littered road was terribly dark with thick patches of trees on either side. Katherine, her breath rising in small white puffs, took comfort in the murky surroundings. She couldn’t see much through the hedges growing wild around Dooley’s house and longed to hear what the two men were discussing inside.
After Caldurian’s mysterious departure eleven days ago, Maynard Kurtz resumed his duties as acting mayor in light of Otto’s arrest. Maynard’s first duty was to appoint Zachary Farnsworth to the village council after Ned Adams had resigned to rebuild his gristmill. Two days later, Maynard abruptly left for Morrenwood, planning to consult with King Justin about Caldurian’s reappearance. Before departing, he recommended that Farnsworth assume the duties of acting mayor until his return, expressing his utmost confidence in the local bank manager. Since the other four council members had no objections–none of them being interested in the position after having lived through Caldurian’s iron rule–Zachary Farnsworth was unanimously appointed. Little fanfare accompanied the announcement as people were too busy repairing their disrupted lives and damaged property.
Katherine had privately shuddered upon hearing the news, assuming that Farnsworth must have made a deal with Caldurian and had somehow hoodwinked Maynard to worm his way into power. She was eager to expose Farnsworth before he could do further damage to the village, but knew it would take time and patience to gather proof. Now, she waited silently in the woods on a cold and cheerless night, having repeated this vigil on successive evenings.
Katherine shivered, wrapped in a heavy cloak with the hood draped over her head. It was another monotonous night, one of many she had endured ever since Paraquin had alerted her to the periodic, late night excursions of Dooley Kramer and Zachary Farnsworth. She furrowed her brow as the smell of pine sap invaded her nostrils, wondering where they had traveled to on those previous occasions in a horse-drawn cart laden with cut wood and other supplies.
She had twice spied the two men leaving in their cart from Dooley’s house in the dead of night. And counting the one other time eighteen days ago that Paraquin saw them leaving Kanesbury with a letter signed by Caldurian, she calculated that their departure was always at six-day intervals. She had never seen them leave in the nights in between when she kept watch until Dooley’s lights were extinguished. So if they stuck to that schedule, she expected them to leave again tonight.
As the cold tormented her, she wished the two men would hurry up and confirm her suspicions. If they left again tonight, then s
he would implement her plan in six more days. Perhaps they would lead her to Adelaide–if she was still alive. She hung on to that hope, recalling Paraquin saying that he had heard Adelaide’s name spoken between Dooley and Farnsworth eighteen nights ago. Katherine wildly imagined the depths of their connection to Caldurian and the strange happenings in Kanesbury.
A noise startled her. The impatient grunting of a horse near Dooley’s house drifted through the air. Then all was quiet again, the two men apparently not any closer to leaving. Katherine sighed with only mild disappointment, happy that the occupation of Kanesbury had ended which allowed her to hide here without fear of arrest. Caldurian and his Island forces had mysteriously disappeared in the middle of the night eleven days ago. The citizens of Kanesbury awoke deliriously happy the following morning to their newfound freedom. After nine days of captivity, a celebration and the rebuilding of lives had begun at once. Except for her Uncle Otto.
The former mayor of Kanesbury still remained a prisoner in the village lockup, awaiting trial on abetting the enemy and other charges. Katherine knew in her heart that her uncle was innocent, somehow having been framed for his alleged crimes just as Nicholas had been. She wondered where Nicholas might be right now, hoping he was warm and out of harm’s way. Her thoughts were close to the mark as Nicholas and Ivy were recovering in Illingboc two days after the inferno on the Bretic and their ordeal on Karg Island. Katherine also thought about Paraquin’s whereabouts, hoping the kind soldier had escaped from Caldurian and his fellow Islanders and was perhaps making an honest life for himself somewhere in Laparia. But their fates were out of her hands. She waited impatiently for Dooley and Farnsworth to make their next move because her next move depended upon them keeping to their six-day schedule.
Katherine sighed again. She thought of Lewis, thankful to have him as a loving and steadying force in her life during the past few weeks. She was confident that their relationship would evolve into a solid and enduring one. She grinned, not sure how Lewis would react if he ever found out about her recent sleuthing in the woods. Suddenly voices emanated beyond the trees near Dooley’s house. A door slammed shut. When Katherine glanced up, she noticed that the interior lights had been extinguished.
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