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

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  Without mentioning a name, Katherine had caused all gazes to shift to Zachary Farnsworth who remained quietly seated in his chair, suddenly caught in the wilting glare of suspicion. Though he didn’t make eye contact with anyone, Farnsworth felt his skin grow warmer and could hear his heart beating rapidly as he tried to take in a lungful of air to prepare for the coming onslaught. He again glanced about the corners of the room, desperately looking for any of his men to signal that the time to act was now.

  “And one day later, our impostor acting mayor announced that he would travel to Morrenwood to consult with King Justin about Caldurian’s return to these parts,” she continued, pressing forward with a cool, calm demeanor that belied the fiery spirit inside her. “And before the false Maynard had left Kanesbury, who did he recommend as his replacement for what all of us thought would be a temporary absence?” Once more, all eyes shifted to Farnsworth, the man’s name whispered bitterly upon a few lips.

  “After hearing today’s testimony, one might conclude that the appointment of this individual to the office of mayor could be the reward he was promised from Caldurian.” Katherine looked directly at Zachary Farnsworth who returned a bitter, smoldering gaze. “But unfortunately for you, Mr. Farnsworth, there were far too many loose ends in such a complicated endeavor. Though it took some time, your plans have finally unraveled.”

  Katherine kept her hard gaze fixed upon him as he silently challenged her, his reddened face slowly contorting as a burning anger welled inside him.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” he snapped. “Why are any of you looking at me?” he added, addressing the crowd with a dismissive swipe of his hand. “Surely you don’t believe this young girl’s fanciful stories, do you?” He looked about from face to face, but not a single individual offered a hint of support. All first wanted to hear his explanation after such incriminating testimony.

  “Can you give us any reason to disbelieve her?” Constable Brindle asked. He took a few slow steps toward Farnsworth, the tip of his cane tapping the wooden floorboards with sobering finality. “Tell me, Zachary, did you hire the individual who attacked me?”

  “I am insulted by such harsh words!” he said with offense, jumping to his feet.

  “Insulted or not, I would still like an answer,” the constable replied, taking one step closer. “Did you hire the man who attacked me–yes or no?”

  Farnsworth’s jaw went slack. “I cannot believe such questions are being hurled at me after this outlandish testimony! You have nothing to say to her, constable?” he asked, pointing at Katherine. “She, who makes up stories on behalf of Dooley Kramer, and then conveniently says he is dead and buried. How do we know that she isn’t telling lies in a plot against me? Can she produce the body? Or maybe that has conveniently disappeared.” He stepped toward the first row of benches, eyeing several of the villagers gazing warily upon him. “And most preposterous of all is a fabrication about a wizard changing his appearance at will, using such a yarn against me without a shred of proof. Have any of you seen that wizard change shape from Maynard Kurtz into another man? Or a dog? Or even a loaf of apple bread? Have you, Miss Durant?”

  “No, I have not,” she softly replied, “though Dooley claimed to have seen Arileez’ transformation. And coupled with Maynard’s testimony about seeing his own double, you cannot completely refute what I’ve said. It would logically explain the unusual behavior of the impostor Otto Nibbs who acted in a manner so unlike my real uncle.”

  “Again we have these suspect facts, these malleable facts that apparently can be shaped into whatever truth Miss Durant desires as easily as this so-called wizard Arileez could alter his appearance.” Farnsworth’s words dripped with skepticism. “So I’ll ask again–has anyone here ever seen this wizard or witnessed his amazing tricks?”

  The room grew quiet. People looked around, hoping that someone might step forward. Others stared at the floor, realizing that Farnsworth had aptly defended himself against one of Katherine’s most serious charges. He thought so, too, knowing that not a single person inside the hall had ever seen Arileez in his true form. He hoped that if he could refute Katherine’s biggest claim, perhaps he could chip away at her other charges to sow some doubt and buy enough time to flee before everyone came to their senses. Just as Caldurian had done, he wanted to keep everyone off balance with theatrics and bombast so, whether they believed him or not, he would have confused them enough to get what he needed, namely, a means of escape. He dramatically cupped a hand to his ear.

  “Well, I hear no support of Miss Durant’s outrageous claim,” he said, taking a step back. “That makes me wonder what else she said that might not stand up to a bit of rigorous scrutiny.” He chuckled amiably before glancing at the jury. “I’m not even the one on trial today. So should I sit down and let Mr. Raven conclude? Or may I proceed with another line of questioning to defend my besmirched honor?”

  An uneasy silence took hold. But before anyone in the jury could reply, a man sitting on a crowded bench adjacent to the fireplace cleared his throat. Several people turned their heads toward that shadowy spot on the west side of the room. Farnsworth did so as well, casting an irritated glance at the individual. “Yes?” he asked, his eyebrows arched sharply. “Do you have something to say?”

  The man, dressed in a long, rumpled coat with a ragged, brown cloth hat tilted over his eyes, slowly stood and faced the curious onlookers. He stepped into the glow of the crackling flames, slightly pushing back the brim of his hat.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, his voice pleasant and folksy yet with a streak of authority lingering just beneath the surface. “With your permission, of course.”

  “Fine,” Farnsworth muttered, eyeing the man suspiciously. He couldn’t make out the entirety of his face in the thin shadows nor identify him by name. “First, who are you? And what bizarre bits of information could you possibly add to this outlandish trial?”

  “What I have to say relates directly to the particulars of these proceedings,” he replied as he strolled closer to the front of the crowd. “I’m sure you’ll be enlightened.”

  “Oh, really?” Farnsworth’s tone was slightly mocking as if not expecting much from the man, though his curiosity was piqued nonetheless. “What have you to say?”

  Nicholas also watched with growing curiosity as the man strode forth, not recognizing him yet detecting a familiarity to his voice. The situation at last became apparent when he looked beyond the man’s unkempt clothing and weatherworn hat. He immediately cracked a thin smile, unable to believe that such a person had time to concern himself with the trifling matters of a small village.

  “I wish to address the matter you have expressed much skepticism about, Mr. Mayor.” The man spoke in easy tones, eyeing Farnsworth from beneath the brim of his hat. “Namely, the existence of the wizard Arileez. I believe Miss Durant’s account regarding his transformational abilities. You, however, have dismissed it.”

  “And by the mere act of stating that you take her word over mine is supposed to convince everyone of the veracity of her story?” Farnsworth asked. “I think most would agree with me, sir, that your statement needs a bit more meat on its bones.”

  The man cast a steely gaze at him before breaking out with an easy smile. “The information I bring here is anything but skeletal.” He slowly removed his hat and overcoat. “You see, Mr. Farnsworth, I stand here as an eyewitness. I met Arileez face to face and saw his phenomenal abilities up close. Too close in fact, as I received a wound from his very hand. And were it not for some courageous men, I most likely would have died from a second, swift stroke of his blade,” he said. “Is that proof enough to start?”

  Farnsworth looked at the stranger, intimidated by the man’s ice blue eyes that stared him down, and the confidence and certainty of his words that had overwhelmed the hall. Slowly he realized who this person was, having seen images of him depicting the same short cropped, silvery hair and fine vestments now on display, but unable to comprehend how
or why he would be here. Yet Farnsworth knew he hadn’t succumbed to delusion when others began to murmur the individual’s name, all delightfully stunned by his presence.

  But before he could welcome the visitor to the village hall, Len Harold rose to his feet with deference and breathlessly called out his name. “King Justin!”

  CHAPTER 119

  The Verdicts

  The men, women and children in the village hall rose to their feet, astounded that the King of Arrondale had graced them with his presence. Len Harold, seated across the chamber among the first few rows, recalled having talked with King Justin several times during the war council and always appreciated his kindness for taking the time to meet with a total stranger. Now his admiration for the man rose to new heights. “What an unexpected honor and surprise,” he said with heartfelt gratitude.

  “The honor is mine, Mr. Harold. But please sit down,” the King replied, signaling for all to do so. “Today’s proceedings are not of a royal nature, but instead a trial of local interest. I am here merely as a witness and neither want nor expect special treatment. I wish only to testify on behalf of my friend, Nicholas Raven.” He glanced at Nicholas with an encouraging smile. Everyone looked at the young man, astonished that King Justin knew him, yet even more amazed that he had addressed him as friend.

  “Thank you,” Nicholas replied, wondering how the monarch had arrived here at such a crucial time.

  Twelve days ago, Nicholas had bid Gilbert Trout farewell on his journey with the second letter addressed to Prince Gregory. The teenager road directly to Graystone Garrison located about thirty miles away. Nicholas knew that Prince Gregory had planned to be there for a time as he was helping to organize the construction of a new garrison up north along the coastline. In his letter, he requested if it would be possible for the prince to spare a few troops and send them to Kanesbury in secret upon the day of the trial, suspecting that Zachary Farnsworth and his men would likely cause trouble of some sort once Farnsworth’s connection to Caldurian was exposed. But how King Justin ultimately came to be here, he could not guess.

  “I’m honored by your presence and kind words,” Nicholas continued, gazing at the King as if still not sure he was really standing there. “And I’m more than happy to have you speak at my trial. I, like everyone else, am eager to hear what you know about Arileez. Please, tell us of your encounter with him, sir.”

  “It took place in the Blue Citadel last year on the second day of New Winter,” the King replied. He stood in front of the crowd, occasionally turning to Nicholas and the jury. “It was a day I learned just how secretive and insidious Vellan’s plans were to extend his poisonous grip across Laparia. But fortunately, the reign of Vellan ended in spectacular fashion. I’m sure many of you have heard stories of his demise slowly begin to arrive home with your brave friends and neighbors who fought against him.

  “Now for the particulars about Arileez. I had met that wizard in one of the Citadel corridors, though at first I didn’t know who he was because he looked exactly like, well–like me.” The King noted the surprised looks before him as whispered comments made their way from row to row. He smiled, offering his reassurance. “Yes, I see you already recognize the link between my account and the one given by Maynard Kurtz. The strange transformational abilities of Arileez are completely true–or were true, I should say–as Arileez was killed in the attack against me.” King Justin turned slightly and pointed to his upper right arm, showing everyone a torn section of his shirt sleeve. “This is the garment I wore when Arileez sliced through my skin with a talon-like extension of his own hand. I keep it as proof of that horrible act and to remind myself how fragile our freedom is against those who wish to extinguish it. You see, Arileez, on Vellan’s behalf, tried to usurp the rule of Arrondale by replacing me after having assumed my form, speech and mannerisms. Had he succeeded, no one would have been the wiser because Arileez, under Vellan’s direction, would have slowly rewoven the fabric of our free lands to suit his purposes, slowly killing us from within.

  “But Vellan’s foul design was revealed and we defeated that aspect of his horrible plan. And after learning about the events in Kanesbury, we now realize that Caldurian had also used Arileez for a similar purpose here. Before sending that shape-shifting wizard to Morrenwood, Caldurian had borrowed Arileez to seek his revenge on your mayor and my dear second cousin, Otto Nibbs, who I’ve learned sits in a cell in the lockup next door.” He paused a moment, aware of a deep sense of regret that filled the room.

  “And so, ladies and gentlemen, if you value my word, then you should also accept the word of Maynard Kurtz. He was telling the truth about how Arileez had infiltrated your village in the guise of both Maynard and Otto.” King Justin turned to Farnsworth, eyeing him with cool contempt. “And if today’s testimony is to be believed, then you, Mr. Farnsworth, had clearly conspired with Caldurian to help him seek vengeance upon this village, and also involved yourself in kidnapping, hiring of an assassin and other assorted thugs, and additional crimes as well. And for what? Financial gain? A position of power? A bit of public adulation?” The King sadly shook his head. “Is that what you sold out your village for, Mr. Farnsworth? Is that all that really mattered to you in life?”

  The room succumbed to silence. Everyone cast their eyes upon Zachary Farnsworth who remained seated in his chair, frozen in the moment. He countered the barrage of accusatory stares with a hardened sneer, his face reddening in the dying golden light upon the windows. He rose defiantly to his feet, pushing back against the growing disdain of the crowd by the sheer force of his will.

  “Why are you all looking at me like that?” he asked, his tone sharp yet controlled. He shot a callous glance at King Justin before eyeing Katherine Durant seated among the crowd. “The two of you are in on this together!” he said, waving a finger back and forth between her and the King. “And did you know anything about this?” he inquired of Nicholas, stepping away from his chair. “Were you aware of this conspiracy against me?”

  “I knew nothing about King Justin being here today,” he replied. “I’m as stunned by his arrival as you are, Mr. Farnsworth. But as long as we’re posing questions, let me ask you one. Was it your idea to frame me for the gristmill robbery?”

  Farnsworth bit his lower lip, trying to remain composed, yet each moment spent looking at Nicholas set his mind ablaze. “Did I frame you? How dare you ask me such a slanderous question!”

  “And were you the one who set my gristmill on fire?” Ned Adams shouted out as several villagers quietly urged him on.

  “That is a vile accusation indeed, Mr. Adams, and not worthy of a response!” he shouted, stepping past the King to address the onlookers up close. “May I remind you that I am not the one on trial. As the facilitator of this proceeding, I shall suspend it at once if these scathing attacks continue. Do you hear me?”

  “These are not attacks,” Katherine said as she rose from her seat. “We speak the truth, Mr. Farnsworth, a harsh truth from which you can no longer hide. Your reprehensible deeds have finally caught up with you, and whatever punishment awaits you will never compensate for the damages you’ve inflicted. But mark my words, this village and its fine citizens will recover from the poison you’ve spilled here. We will rebuild our lives, hopefully never to be fooled by the likes of you again.”

  Farnsworth smirked. “What a fine speech. But just because you’ve paraded Maynard and Adelaide before us, doesn’t prove that I kidnapped them. And I want to see the corpses of Dooley Kramer and this alleged assassin before I’ll even consider believing that other part of your story.”

  “But you did kidnap me!” Adelaide shouted, standing up and pointing a finger at him. “And I’ll testify so in front of your jury.”

  “And you still didn’t answer my question!” Ned Adams shot back as he jumped to his feet, glaring at Farnsworth. “Did you burn down the gristmill before that wizard invaded our village? Did you?”

  “No!” he hysterically exclaimed, waving
a finger in the air. “I knew nothing about that! It was all Caldurian’s idea to–”

  Farnsworth went silent, his heart pounding and his chest heaving as all looked at him with disgust. At that moment, Constable Brindle signaled to Tyler Harkin to approach. He whispered into his ear and then the young deputy slipped out the door on the west side, unnoticed by Farnsworth who continued to stare down the other villagers.

  “So you have had discussions with the wizard,” Maynard said, adding his voice to the mix. “Nice of you to finally admit it.”

  “I’ll admit nothing! And as you people have made a farce of this trial, I hereby suspend it until such time as saner arguments can be made.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t do that, Zachary,” Constable Brindle told him. He walked toward the acting mayor, his cane in hand and a grim expression upon his face.

  Farnsworth spun around and eyed him with distrust. “What are you talking about? Get back to your seat!”

  Clay calmly shook his head. “With all due respect, sir, I am in charge of bringing the case against Nicholas Raven, not you. So in light of what has been revealed today, I am hereby withdrawing all charges against him.”

  “You cannot do that!” Farnsworth cried out. “You have no right!”

  “Yes, I do, Zachary. And it’s done.” He glanced at Nicholas with a contrite smile. Nicholas nodded once and smiled back as if to say that all had been forgiven long ago.

  “I will not allow it!” Farnsworth pressed on, stepping toward the constable.

  “Furthermore,” Clay continued in the same steady tone, “I am hereby leveling charges against you, Mr. Farnsworth, that include kidnapping, attempted murder, conspiring with the enemies of Arrondale, and well, a long list of other things I have yet to sort out. But we’ll have time to discuss the particulars while you’re sitting in one of the lockup cells.”