“My dear, any man knows that he won’t marry the Queen because she looks like a toad,” the old man said with a simple laugh. But Veronica noted that he lowered his voice when he said it. She graced the old man with a courtesy smile at his poor joke. He continued, “Strongiron will marry when he finds a girl worthy of him. He’ll not marry a trollop, and mind you, he won’t marry the Queen out of respect for her late husband, King Alomar.” He saw Veronica staring at the immense fighter, her deep brown eyes fixed on the General’s ice-blue ones across the crowded tavern. “Lass, take it from me. You’re a pretty widow and all, but you might want to set your sights a bit lower.”
Veronica smiled and gave the older couple her best whimsical sigh as she called over the barmaid and asked for the proprietor.
The Innkeeper popped over to the table almost immediately, with a smile on his face as he saw the older couple. “Lord Daniel, Lady Fran—what a wonderful surprise to see you both. Tell me, what do the Lords of Paragatha want with a humble innkeeper such as myself? This hasn’t something to do with our taxes, I hope?” The innkeeper had his sleeves rolled up—it was packed inside his common room and with all the fire pits going, it was warm. He rubbed a thick, hairy forearm across his brow, mopping up sweat as he smiled at the older couple.
“We didn’t call you over, Silas,” Lord Daniel replied. “I’m sure you are cheating the town of our taxes like every other business here, but that is not why you were summoned. Miss Sarah, whom we’ve just met this evening, wanted a word with you. We simply mentioned to your barkeep that we knew you.”
“Ah.” Silas’s demeanor changed fairly quickly. “What do you need?” he asked Veronica pointedly.
“I’m sure she would like to meet the General,” commented Lord Daniel, at which point his lady wife Fran hit him on the shoulder, not gently.
“Actually, I would love to make the General’s acquaintance, but that is not my main question for you. I was wondering if you knew where I might find a man and his wife by the name of ‘Blacksmooth’—they are old friends of mine, and I’m travelling through Paragatha to try and find them.”
Silas just looked at Veronica curiously. After an awkward pause, he said, “That is the second time in two days that someone has asked me about a man named Blacksmooth. A young man was in here last night asking me if I knew a jeweler by that name. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him—the only Blacksmooth in town that I know used to be a mage. A good man, but not a True Mage. Had his own eyes. He lost his son and went mad, near as I can tell. No telling what happened to him. That was 17 or 18 years ago, I’d wager. Is that the long lost friend you’re looking for, Miss Sarah?”
After an imperceptible widening of the eyes, Veronica quickly got herself back under control. “Yes, good sir—I believe it is. You wouldn’t happen remember what that young man looked like, would you? I believe he’s my cousin—we’re both looking for a dear family friend.”
The innkeeper narrowed his eyes a bit. “That would be queer cousins indeed. This man had auburn hair and a darker complexion. Miss Sarah, you have to be one of the palest ladies I’ve ever seen.” He then hastily added after Fran shot him a frown. “Pretty, of course, and well-travelled, obviously. But you look nothing like one another, save your height. Cousins, you say?” He smiled, somewhat nervously this time.
Veronica ignored the question. “Silas, I have only two more questions, and you’ll find me to be a very grateful guest. Number one—I would very much like to hear where this mage used to live those many years ago. Perhaps I can pick up the trail from there.” She stood up and looked at the large man eye-to-eye, matching him in height. She placed one of her delicate hands on his shoulder in a leisurely way.
The innkeeper, already sweating profusely, mopped his forehead again. “S-sure, Miss S-sarah. I c-can tell you where the old mage l-lived. Told the other g-guy, too.” He smiled, and this close his teeth were as yellow as corn.
Veronica squeezed his shoulder, somewhere just beyond friendly. “That would be much appreciated, Silas.” She moved a little closer to him, causing Fran and Daniel to raise their eyebrows a bit as they watched her get face to face with the sweaty innkeeper. “And number two—do tell the General that I would like to meet him.”
Kari
“Wait here,” Jonathon said. “The Queen will see you momentarily. May I offer you some refreshment after your travels?”
Before Rebecca could say a word, Phillip replied, “Yes, thank you. Some fresh fruit and bread and sliced meat would do us all some good, I daresay. And wine. A bit of wine to settle the nerves a bit, after the sea and all.” He turned away as if used to giving orders and being obeyed.
“I will, uh, see what we have. Good day to you all.” Jonathon said, raising his eyebrows slightly at his demanding guest. He nodded toward Kari and Rebecca as he left the small waiting room.
After their arrival at the castle, it was several days before Queen Najalas finally called them into her audience chamber, during which time they began to learn their way throughout the massive building’s public areas. Kari could not believe the stonework. Several rooms that faced east opened to vast balconies, high up the mountainside, overlooking the valley floor far below, and the Sea of Joy beyond. They took a moment their first morning to watch the late sunrise climb out of the water to shine into a sitting hall off the eastern edge. Absolutely breathtaking, Kari thought. She couldn’t believe that she was in a real castle in a real city. It made Brigg and her hometown of Fostler seem so quaint, so unsophisticated.
When they weren’t checking with Jonathon on their place among petitioners in the common room, they spent a fair amount of time looking at the elaborate tapestries throughout the castle. It told the story of Rookwood, of the Kings and Warlords who ruled Elvidor. In the library, Phillip pointed to a book written in the common tongue lying on a table that was titled Elvidor, the Heart of Tenebrae: A History. It was next to another book, much older, that was falling apart. The title of that book was Of Ancient Myths.
There were wings for various Guilds to gather within the castle. Rangers, Mages, Warriors, and even Thieves and Assassins were all employed by the Queen, apparently. Kari looked and asked around to see if there was a Clerical Guild, but there was none. One of the cooks that she met laughed lightly at her question. “Cleric Guild? Miss you should go see the nobles in Paragatha…they got Clerics a-plenty!”
“Paragatha? There are Clerics there?” Kari asked, somewhat excited.
“Oh yes. They worship everything there.” She cackled a bit and went back to the kitchen. Somehow, I don’t think that’s the type of cleric I’m looking for, Kari thought.
Though the food was fabulous and the castle beyond fascinating, by the fourth day Kari was restless to see the Queen, and she knew Rebecca was as well. Only Phillip seemed content to wander the halls, eat, drink, and chat incessantly with the people inside Rookwood.
Finally, nearly a week after they had arrived, Jonathon summoned them to their meeting. After another brief wait—although long enough for Phillip to graze his way through the tray of food that had been brought to them—Jonathon returned. “The Queen will see you now in her audience room.”
This was the first Kari had seen of the Queen’s audience room, but it was the smell of the room that she noticed first. Roses, vanilla, and other spices. As someone who manipulated the senses herself, Kari knew immediately that there was illusion in the air. Nobody can create that strong of a smell merely by washing…I don’t care if you are rich enough to bathe in a tub of rose water.
The room itself was small, with a fire pit near the center ablaze with a magical blue flame that Kari also recognized. Everflame. There were a half-dozen knights around the room, with two standing on either side of a couple of large, comfortable-looking chairs situated on a slightly raised platform. One chair was empty, but standing in front of it was a True Mage. She was a beautiful, exotic-looking woman with white eyes and olive-colored skin. A bright red cowl, covered her head l
ike a close-fitting cap, forming a triangular peak at her forehead.
Oddly, it was only then that Kari noticed the other woman seated in the second chair, presumably the Queen herself. The afternoon was getting late, but the Queen did not look tired.
“Welcome. I understand you have travelled by sea all the way from the Three Fingers to visit us at Rookwood. What is it that you seek?” Queen Najalas said with a directness that caught them all a bit off guard.
Before Phillip could speak first, Rebecca was ready. “My Queen, my name is Rebecca. Some call me the Lady Ranger. This is Phillip, our Elder from Brigg. He was kind enough to help finance our journey here, and helped, er, protect us along the way.” She nodded curtly at him, but kept talking before Phillip could open his mouth. “And this is Kari Quinlan, a young illusionist in training. She is the one who has sought you out, my Queen.” Rebecca bowed low, not being the type nor possessing the wardrobe to curtsy. She stepped aside and pushed Kari, a little roughly, to stand between her and Phillip.
“Welcome to you all. Kari, what can I help you with?” Again, dispensing with the pleasantries.
Kari stared at the Queen. She looked so regal, so commanding. Not beautiful, but in control. Not even Phillip moved to chime in when the Queen asked Kari a direct question. “My Queen, I have received council recently to seek you out.” She paused, but the Queen did not interrupt. “My prophecy gave me some insights on many, many things—most of which I cannot speak out loud about. Begging your pardon, but are you familiar with a Mage’s Prophecy?” she asked.
“Yes. I would consider Pilanthas—one of the highest in his order of prophetic mages—a personal councilor of mine. I know your traditions.” The Queen stared patiently at the young woman.
Kari continued. “Then you know that I cannot share everything that I have seen, some of which will undoubtedly come to pass. But one thing I can share with you, because I may need help. I am considering that my destiny may not best be realized through magic. Instead of pursuing the ritual climb on our Staircase, I seek to learn more about an ancient God—some say she is the One True God. Perhaps you have heard of her as a child in stories…her name is Dymetra.”
The Queen blinked, leaned forward in her chair, putting her hand over her mouth, but said nothing.
Kari continued. “I am considering a life of Faith as a True Cleric, but I don’t know how, and have no one to teach me. I was told that you may be able to provide guidance.”
Phillip turned to Kari, trying to look noble or proud. Like most of his expressions, however, he simply looked pompous. Rebecca put her arm around her in a big-sister type of way.
Curiously, the eyebrows on the True Mage standing next to the Queen rose slightly after Kari spoke, but she said nothing.
The Queen slowly turned her head to stare at Jonathon. “So, she’s the One.”
Kari kept her bright green eyes fixated on the Queen. “Your Majesty?”
Queen Najalas stood up and slowly walked toward Kari, stepping down from her dais, waving the knights off as they moved to position themselves between the Queen and the petitioners. “I was told, by Pilanthas in fact, that it would be fruitless to try and find a True Cleric, but that one would find me. I can only assume that you are the one he foretold.” She sighed. “Young lady, I do not know how much help I can provide—I am searching for the same thing you are. But I do have resources. In two weeks, no more than three, my Head of Magic, Niku, will be travelling to Urthrax to find the same answers that you are seeking—how do we recover the ancient Clerical Arts, for I know that we will need them.” She recalled the image of Malenec wordlessly teleporting away on the strength of his faith across the sea to rejoin the thousands of undead zombies he had animated from the port city of Ilbindale. The thought chilled her.
The Queen continued. “Since you have volunteered, I would have you join Niku and his men. I have no idea what they will find, but be forewarned—Urthrax is a dangerous place, and it is already inhabited by a Dark Cleric who has clearly mastered communication with an ancient evil, Kuth-Cergor. I fear that by the time Dymetra honors your prayers, our situation will be dire indeed.”
Am I ready? Who will keep me safe? “My Queen—if I may? Would it be possible for Rebecca to accompany me? I would feel more comfortable having a friend, especially a Ranger, close by as I undertake this challenge.” She turned to the Lady Ranger and whispered, “You’ll come, won’t you?”
The Queen smiled, but only in brief. “Yes, take both your companions. But I would say that for a lady seeking to put her faith in a long-quiet God, it would seem an odd way to start your journey by putting more stock in your friend’s bow.”
Kari hadn’t even considered that. “You’re right, my Queen. My faith will need much room to grow on this journey.”
Finally, Phillip spoke up. “My Queen,” he started. “Perhaps I could offer an alternative suggestion?” He smiled his greasiest smile and tried to look casual as he walked nearer to the Queen. He saw one of the knights stir again and stopped, clearing his throat. “Yes. Well. So—about this trip. I completely agree that it makes sense for Rebecca to accompany our dear, sweet Kari into that mysterious land across the sea. But my talents are, shall we say, a little more strategic. Would it not make more sense for you and I to work together on planning how to more tightly unite East and West on Elvidor? With the advent of this Dark Cleric you spoke of, you say your need will soon be dire. Would not a more closely allied Elvidor be of help to you, whatever the future may bring? But in addition to that, there is something else you should know. One of the greatest mages to come along in generations has taken a fancy to Kari, as they both grew up in our village. Perhaps you have heard of him? His name is Magi Blacksmooth. If you would extend your resources toward finding him, I believe we would be able to repel any attack, survive any famine, or deal with most any other common challenge thrown our way. Of course, he trusts me like a Father, but if he were to marry Kari by Royal decree….you can imagine the loyalty that would instill toward our cause. Just imagine—the greatest mage, the rebirth of the True Clerics, the union of West with East—why, we could expand your rule beyond just Elvidor. We would be unbeatable!” His rising voice echoed slightly in the Queen’s audience chamber.
After the reverb died down, he added, “You need me here, working with you. Near your side,” he hinted.
The Queen considered Phillip’s words for no more than two seconds. “No, I will not be issuing any Royal marriage decrees, for Kari or anyone else. I have, however, heard of this gifted mage of whom you speak. But we will not be waiting around to see if he stops by any time soon, looking for love. And while I agree that we need more coordination between Rookwood and our Western border, I will work with ports and village Elders—including you—as necessary, should our defenses need to be strengthened or swords raised.” The Queen allowed herself a sly little smile. “No, Phillip—I do believe that your highest value to your Queen and the realm is to serve Niku and our brave acolyte here on their quest to find God. Surely there is no work more important than that?”
She turned to Kari and Rebecca. “Unless, of course, you would prefer him not join you? I would find that tantamount to an accusation of ineptitude at best, and cowardice at worst. However, if that be the case, I’m sure Simon, my Captain of the Guard, will be able to bring out the most exceptional qualities in our dear Elder from Brigg.”
At that point, snow would have been two shades darker than Phillip’s face as he blanched at the idea. Lower lip trembling slightly, he turned to the two ladies, eyes begging for a kind word.
Rebecca smiled and nodded to The Queen. “I am sure your Captain can get along without Phillip. He may accompany us—I’m sure your Chief Mage Niku will find use for his strategic council on our quest.”
Incredulous, Kari looked at Rebecca and whispered under her breath, “Why?”
“Because now he owes us. Leverage, my dear,” Rebecca whispered back. “You may place your faith in this long-forgotten God.
I’ll put mine in leverage, thank you very much.”
Magi
A cold wind sliced through the hovel that was Tomas’s home near the outskirts of the city. Most nights he slept in the alley behind The Royal Steed. Neither place was warm, but every so often he made his way back toward his makeshift home, near the woods. It wasn’t much, and the walk was tedious without his eyes, but he had done it so many times that he knew the way. A stream nearby was suitable for the occasional bath, though he looked as if he never used it. Certainly not in winter.
Magi said a word and felt the familiar tingle as he called forth his beautiful magic. The smell of his father was unsettling, and far away, he heard scavenger birds feasting on a kill near the sea. Though the snow had begun to subside, he sensed another storm brewing in the west, from the mountains, heading toward Paragatha. Soon the sensation passed—an instant later, as the outside world measures time—and his spell was cast. Warm fire lit a small hearth that hadn’t seen a flame in quite some time.
Tomas had insisted that they come back to his home, such as it was. Magi offered to buy him a room for a night while they discussed things, but Tomas would not hear of it. “How can you afford a room if you feel the need to steal from the likes of me? No, no—I’m not looking for an argument,” he said, waving his hands. “But come to my home, such as it is.”
“Very well, old man,” Magi had finally said, and followed his father to his hovel.
“So, you are also a Mage?” Tomas sat down and drank some murky wine that Magi refused when offered.
“I am. You were one at one time as well?” Magi wrapped his cloak more tightly around himself as the night air howled through flaps that served as a poor excuse for walls.
“At one point, I was indeed. A fair one, I might add. Before my prophecy.” He was sitting so close to the flames that it looked as if his rags might catch fire if he shifted his weight. “Then everything changed for me.”
In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1) Page 40