The Congruent Wizard

by Dave Schroeder

  “Now they look like the pictures,” said Eynon. Nûd moved his chin up and down in agreement.

  Chee jumped down from Rocky’s neck, stole an apple from a basket on deck, and climbed the single mast like a squirrel. When the little raconette reached the top Eynon could hear one long triumphant, “Cheeee!” from above. He wondered if Chee would try to hit someone with the core when he’d finished eating. Eynon would have chastised him for his theft but he was too far above him to hear any reprimand and Eynon had more important things to do.

  Nûd and Eynon saw an imposing couple in their late thirties standing near the mainmast. The woman had golden-blonde braids and the man had a long red-gold beard and massive arms the size of most people’s legs.

  “That must be King Bjarni and Queen Signý,” said Eynon. “She resembles the worried queen in my neighbor’s shah-mat set.”

  The royal couple wore fur vests and sparkled with gold torcs, bracelets, rings, earrings, and necklaces—the king every bit as much as the queen. Behind them were three women in gold robes wearing thick amber necklaces.

  Sigrun and Rannveigr weaved through warrior-sailors milling about on the ship until they got to Rocky’s side. They helped Nûd and Eynon unload the pillowcases filled with gold rings and piled them by the mast. Sigrun’s parents watched without speaking until their daughter, her friend, and the two young men stood before them.

  “Welcome,” said King Bjarni. He had a warm, welcoming smile. His huge, bushy red-blonde beard was like Eynon’s cousin Euwen’s. Euwen was twenty years older than Eynon and fairly famous in the family for his pigheadedness. He’d made a pact with himself that he wouldn’t cut his beard until the young woman he’d met and fallen for on his wander year married him. The young woman had married someone else and now had two children, so Euwen’s beard had become quite impressive.

  Queen Signý moved her hand from her cheek and smiled. “Who are your friends?” she asked Sigrun. The gold-robed figures remained in the background.

  “This is Nûd, and the skinny one is…”

  “Eynon, Your Majesties. Our wyvern’s name is Rocky.”

  Signý motioned to one of her soldiers who returned half a minute later with a goat for the wyvern. Rocky curled his tail around the flagship’s mast and began to consume the caprine offering.

  “Join us toward the stern,” said Queen Signý.

  “This way,” said Sigrun. She tugged on Nûd and Eynon’s sleeves simultaneously.

  There were two folding thrones set up a few dozen feet behind the mast. Bjarni and Signý sat and benches were brought for Nûd, Eynon and the girls. The gold-robed figures with amber necklaces—Bifurland wizards, Eynon assumed—stood behind the thrones. Warriors with iron helmets, round shields, and long-handled axes or spears kept guard to either side. It reminded Eynon of the court of the king and queen of flowers at the spring festival back in the Coombe—but with more edged weapons. The king motioned for them to sit.

  “Who are you?” asked King Bjarni, once everyone was situated.

  “They’re bringing you gold,” said Sigrun.

  “Let them speak for themselves,” said Bjarni, smiling at his daughter. “Anyone arriving on wyvern-back deserves that, at least.”

  “Gold?” asked Signý.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” said Nûd to the queen. “The first of many gifts of gold if you’ll turn your warriors’ wrath away from Dâron and seek glory elsewhere.”

  “How much gold?” asked the king.

  “Fifty pounds,” said Sigrun.

  “Shush,” said Rannveigr, putting her hand over Sigrun’s mouth. She removed it in a hurry when Sigrun bit it. “Ouch!”

  “Serves you right, sister-daughter,” said Signý. “She needs to learn to control her tongue on her own without your help.” The queen put her hand back on her cheek and gave both girls a look that said she was shocked, shocked by their behavior. She laughed and so did both girls.

  “That’s quite a lot of gold,” said Bjarni.

  “Five times what Túathal gave us,” said Signý, rubbing a hand on her chin in one of Damon’s familiar mannerisms. Nûd took that as a good sign. She was thinking about it.

  “It’s in those bags by the mast,” said Sigrun.

  “Fetch them here, both of you,” said King Bjarni. “It will help you work off some of your youthful energy and I’d like to see their gift.”

  Sigrun and Rannveigr stood, acknowledged Sigrun’s parents, and rushed back to the mast chattering to each other like songbirds.

  “Children are wonderful,” said the king.

  “I agree, Your Majesty,” said Nûd. “Your daughter is charming.”

  “I wouldn’t go quite that far,” said Bjarni, a smile showing through his copious beard. “Especially when she’s with all the other dragon riders.”

  Nûd nodded and smiled in return. One of the gold-robed women leaned forward and whispered in Queen Signý’s ear.

  “Who might you be?” the queen asked Eynon. “A wizard, I assume, but with a red magestone. Are you from a distant land across the Ocean?”

  “No, Your Majesty,” said Eynon. “I’m from the Coombe, good farmland in the west of Dâron. My village keeps dairy cattle, just like you do. I found my magestone far away.”

  Queen Signý stroked her chin again and said, “Hmm…”

  King Bjarni looked over at his wife and then turned over his shoulder to see the gold-robed figures with amber necklaces. One nodded at him.

  “It sounds like my daughter has been talking more than listening,” said the king.

  “I was not,” said Sigrun, skipping up with her blonde braids bouncing and Rannveigr close behind. She dropped her bag in front of her father and Rannveigr handed hers to the queen. Bjarni reached down to pick up his bag while Signý was already removing a gold ring from hers. She held it up to the light while the girls ran back to get more.

  “Very high quality,” said Signý.

  “Beautiful shine,” said the king, turning a ring back and forth to catch the sun.

  “The first of many such gifts?” the queen asked.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. The first of many,” said Nûd.

  “How many?” asked King Bjarni.

  “How many would it take for you to seek glory by sacking Riyas instead of Brendinas?” asked Nûd.

  “What kind of king would I be if I turned on a fellow monarch like that?” asked Bjarni.

  “A richer one,” said Eynon, smiling.

  Nûd glanced over at Eynon and smiled back. He’d said just the right thing.

  King Bjarni turned to his wife. She nodded.

  “We will take the matter under advisement,” he said. “How long would it take you to gather a larger gift?”

  “That depends on how much larger the gift would need to be,” said Nûd.

  “Five hundred pounds,” said Queen Signý.

  “In total, counting the fifty we’ve given you already?” asked Nûd.

  “Five hundred pounds more,” Signý confirmed. “That would balance out what we could expect to extract from Brendinas.”

  “As you say, Your Majesty,” said Nûd. “It will take us several days to collect such an additional gift. You could anchor your fleet on the east bank just to the north while you wait. There’s a royal hunting preserve for the crown of Dâron there, with plenty of deer and wild boar for the taking.”

  “Hmm…” said King Bjarni, tugging his beard instead of rubbing his chin. One of the gold-robed figures nudged his shoulder and he dropped his hand. “Before anything is decided,” said the king, “give us a demonstration of your red magestone wizardry.”

  “Of course,” said Eynon. He stood and bowed to Bjarni and Signý. “What would you like to see?”

  “Something big and showy,” said Sigrun, returning along with Rannveigr carrying more bags of gold rings. The rings made muffled clunks.

  Eynon looked at the king and queen. They nodded. So did the gold-robed women behind them.

  It will
have to be a fireball, thought Eynon. That fireball I threw at the lake back in Melyncárreg was impressive.

  He looked at the river off to port. Nûd shook his head slightly and held up one finger, pointing toward the clouds.

  Right, thought Eynon. It wouldn’t be smart to vaporize too much of the river. People might be hurt and ships might be damaged.

  “I’d like to have my staff for the spell I’ve got in mind,” said Eynon. “It’s back with my wyvern. Do I have your leave to get it?”

  “Sigrun,” King Bjarni shouted, “bring back the young wizard’s staff with the next bag of gold.”

  “Yes, father!” came Sigrun’s reply. A few seconds later she was back with more gold and Eynon’s staff.

  He took it and twirled it a few times, trying to look impressive, then realized he’d need a lot more practice before he could. He held his staff aloft and concentrated, calling on his red magestone for just the right level of power and his blue magestone for control plus a few extra fillips to make the explosion more colorful. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and released a concentrated ball of energy skyward from the tip of his staff.

  Then Eynon was bowled over by three tight-light force blasts from the gold-robed Bifurland wizards. Energies erupted from their amber magestones and would have caved in his chest if he hadn’t reflexively thrown up a shield in time. As it was, the blasts pushed back his spherical shield and tumbled him over and over until he came to rest against the mast. Nûd was reaching for his crossbow before he realized it was still strapped to Rocky’s back.

  Seconds later, everyone was tossed to the deck by a tremendous explosion overhead. King Bjarni and Queen Signý were knocked backward on their folding thrones into the three gold-robed wizards who stopped their attack and landed in a heap. Nûd was tossed over his bench and had to close his eyes to prevent himself from being blinded by Eynon’s fireball.

  Concentric rings of blue fire surrounded the glowing red ball. They turned purple where they were touched by its crimson flames. A massive boom like the loudest peal of thunder ever heard assaulted their ears. Waves of heat beat down on the flagship, but luckily not enough to set the sails alight. The guards were on their knees or had the nasals on their helms pressed to the deck. Chee slid most of the way down the big square sail, digging three sets of claws into the canvas while a paw-hand still clutched his half-eaten apple.

  Eynon recovered first, when Rocky nudged his protective sphere of solidified sound upright. The wyvern licked the sphere enthusiastically and had seemed to enjoy the light, heat and noise. After creating a new sphere for Rocky to lick, Eynon dispelled the sphere that had saved his life and stepped over to help Nûd to his feet. They both helped Sigrun and Rannveigr up. The girls were unharmed, if a little dazed. They brushed each other off while Eynon and Nûd extended hands to King Bjarni and Queen Signý. Guards helped the other wizards stand.

  “What was that about?” demanded Eynon as he confronted the king and queen and the gold-robed wizards. “I thought we were your guests?”

  “It was just a test of your shields,” said one of the Bifurland wizards.

  “A test that would have killed me if I hadn’t been fast enough to raise them,” said Eynon. His red magestone was pulsing angrily and the trio of gold-robed wizards took a step back. King Bjarni, now standing, held up his hand.

  “You’re right,” he said. “You are our guests. I will see that these three are disciplined for their actions.”

  Eynon nodded. The pulses from his red magestone slowed and became less bright.

  “We accept your offer of a gift of five hundred pounds of gold to direct our warriors elsewhere,” said the king.

  “That offer is no longer on the table,” said Nûd. “The new offer is the fifty pounds we’ve already given you and my friend not burning your fleet to the waterline.”

  “We’ll take that under…” began Bjarni.

  “We accept,” said Queen Signý. The three gold-robed wizards, now gathered close behind her, were nodding vigorously.

  Around the flagship, other dragonships were recovering from Eynon’s fireball. Warrior-sailors were picking themselves up and moving barrels, crates and ship’s supplies back where they belonged after being tossed about. Some ships had holes in their sails and one had tipped enough that it had taken on water. Nearby ships were helping it offload food, armor and weapons so it could be bailed out more easily.

  Rocky leaned his head around the flagship’s mainmast and looked at Rannveigr, Sigrun, and Sigrun’s parents. Sigrun approached the wyvern and rubbed the bottom of his chin with the hilt of her sword. Rocky made a rumbling noise deep in his chest and Bjarni signaled to his guards to toss the big beast another goat, which disappeared almost as fast as the first.

  “Do you have any stones?” asked Eynon, holding his cupped hands to indicate a certain size. “He needs rocks to help his digestion.”

  Queen Signý sent a team of guards below and they quickly returned with baskets full of ballast stones. Rocky crunched and swallowed some of the stones and a basket. Soon a different sort of rumbling came from the wyvern’s belly.

  “I like Rocky,” said Sigrun.

  “He likes you, too,” said Eynon. He was impressed that his familiar had allowed Sigrun’s familiarity.

  Eynon turned to Nûd and mouthed, “Now what?” Nûd smiled.

  “What next, Your Majesties?” Nûd asked.

  “How soon will you be leaving?” asked King Bjarni.

  “There’s nothing keeping us,” said Nûd.

  “Except giving Rocky a few minutes to digest his food,” said Eynon.

  Everyone’s attention was distracted by shouts from forward and starboard. Sigrun and Rannveigr ran up and quickly returned.

  “One of the scout boats is returning,” said Sigrun.

  “They have news from upriver,” said Rannveigr.

  “Bring the scout-captain here as soon as he’s on-board,” said Bjarni.

  A few minutes later, a clean-shaven Bifurlander dressed like a prosperous Dâron farmer stepped in front of the king and queen where they’d resumed their seats on their folding thrones.

  “Welcome back, Skavendr,” said the king.

  “Good to be back, Bjarni. You won’t believe what we saw.”

  Skavendr sat on one of the benches the girls had vacated.

  “Cut the dramatics,” said Signý. “What did you see?”

  “Two Occidens Province legions and their wizards are marching down the east bank of the Brenavon.”

  The king and queen both raised their eyebrows.

  “Do you have anything to say about this information?” Queen Signý asked Nûd.

  “It’s news to me, Your Majesty.”

  “Really,” said the queen. “Yet you wanted us to attack Riyas instead of an understrength Nova Eboracum garrison.”

  “The quarrel between Dâron and Tamloch is a lot older than our disagreement with the Roma,” said Nûd.

  “True,” said the queen. “And our warriors have always wanted to test their mettle against Roma legions…” Her voice trailed off.

  “There’s more, now that I can get a word in,” said Skavendr.

  “What?” asked Signý, her hand back on her cheek.

  Skavendr grinned, showing a predatory smile that marked him as anything but a farmer.

  “I’ve got a present for you,” he said.

  “A present?” asked Queen Signý. “What kind of present?”

  “One I’m sure you’ll appreciate,” said the scout-captain. “We’ve captured a spy!”

  Chapter 30

  Dârio

  Henddyn knocked on the door to the king’s study.

  “Jenet is here, My Liege.”

  “About time,” came Dârio’s voice through the door’s thick timber.

  The door opened, and the young king stuck his shaved head out.

  “There you are,” he said, looking at the young woman in the wine-colored dress and leering. “
I’ve got plans for you.”

  Dârio took Jenet’s hand and pulled her inside.

  “See that we’re not disturbed,” he said, with a wink for Henddyn and the other guards.

  The door was pulled closed with a loud thunk and everyone in the antechamber could hear a heavy bolt being thrown. Henddyn and the members of his squad grinned at each other. The young king was the young king, after all.

  On the other side of the door, Dârio gave Jenet a hug, then stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders.

  “You know what to do?” he asked.

  “Stall as long as possible,” Jenet replied.

  “It won’t be a problem for you?”

  “I can pretend to sigh and moan and say, ‘Oh, Dârio!’ for several hours, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Great,” said Dârio. “I’d appreciate as long a head start as you can give me.”

  “Trust me, I’ll be convincing,” said Jenet. “But I’d rather come with you.”

  “And I’d rather have your company, but I need you for your skills at misdirection.”

  “You could summon my sister, too. She could provide misdirection and I could watch your back.”

  “Imagine how the guards would gossip if I was alone with both of you for several hours,” said Dârio.

  “Especially with constant cries of, ‘Oh Dârio,’ coming through the door,” said Jenet with a grin. “My sister is quite good at imitating my voice, by the way.”

  “I’m sure she is,” said the young king, rolling his eyes and making Jenet laugh.

  “Stop it,” she said. “Why do you have to pretend to be such a pig in public?”

  “You know why.”

  “I do,” said Jenet, frowning. “It’s so your mother won’t drug you into compliance. Far better for her to think you’re a fool caught up in his passions.”

  “You won’t give me away, will you?” asked Dârio, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

  “Not if you kiss me,” said Jenet. Dârio did, enthusiastically. Reluctantly, Jenet moved a few inches back after two dozen rapid heartbeats. She smiled at Dârio. “And if you take me with you…”