The Serpent's Orb

by Guy Antibes

  Jack had to keep from gawking. They hadn’t yet stayed in a place this good on the trip. “Isn’t this too nice?”

  Helen shook her head. “Too nice? Appreciate the better places you stay, since this might be the best inn we use on the trip to Dorkansee.”

  “I’m not sure I can afford it,” Jack said, suddenly wondering if it would deplete his funds. He wasn’t down to half, yet, but perhaps the night at the inn would do it.

  “All set,” Tanner said. “Tonight is on me.” He looked at Jack as if reading his mind. “Don’t worry. The innkeeper and I go way back, so I got a very good discount.”

  “Excellent,” Jack said.

  Later, after putting their things away, they met in the lobby.

  “Why don’t you visit the cathedral? There is a huge market in the square. You should be able to find something interesting. Helen and I have to check on employment possibilities in Dorkansee, and that is very boring for an eighteen-year-old. Anyway, we’ve both been to Bartonsee many times.”

  Jack took that for a dismissal, but he was glad for it. For going on an adventure by himself, he wasn’t alone very much, and this gave him a great opportunity for that. They arranged a time to meet for dinner, and Jack walked out onto the city streets after getting some basic directions from Tanner.

  Keeping his hand on the magic sword’s pommel already had become second nature for him. Jack had no illusions that he was better than anyone competent with a sword. His sparring with Helen and Tanner reminded him of that, but it appeared that his punishment was over for the day and after a few blocks of walking, Jack began to pass people returning with packages and bags from the market.

  A trickle became a throng, and Jack grinned as he joined the crowds in the busy market square. The place was dominated by a huge temple to Alderach, complete with a golden spire that seemed to reach toward the heavens. He remembered Tanner referring to it as a cathedral. It wasn’t Alderach’s day so he wouldn’t have to worry about barging in on a service.

  The markets up to this point of his travels seemed to sell mostly familiar merchandise, but now he noticed different offerings mixed in. Bartonsee was the central crossroads to all the directions in Corand. The neighboring country of Passoran’s main road into Corand came through Bartonsee, and that lent an even more exotic atmosphere to some of the booths. The Passorands were a darker race of people who had come from the plains in the southern reaches of the country. They tended to wear brighter colors and had a more flamboyant culture than the Corandians who, Jack learned, were rather dour compared to their neighbors.

  He stopped to sample Passorand food where he could. He wasn’t sure he liked the different combination of spices, but he didn’t care. Everything was so new to him. He felt even more of a bumpkin in a situation like this, but he smiled at the stories he could tell his friends. Jack frowned. His friends had deserted him, he reminded himself. Well, he’d have to make new ones, and now he would be able to swap stories in the pubs with the adults.

  The weapons on display didn’t even tempt Jack, but he did notice a nice sheath at a leather worker’s stall. “Could you make a cutout on that sheath like this one?”

  Jack showed the man his wand.

  “Why would you want a hole in the sheath?” the leather-maker asked.

  “I am a beginning wizard, and this is an object of power. I can restore its power if I can touch it while I ride.”

  “A wizard, eh? Care to show me?” the man said.

  Jack pulled out his wand and demonstrated his power when he drilled a tiny hole in one of the poles opposite that held up the stall’s roof. “See?”

  The leather-worker grimaced. “I thought you were boasting. It is best not to practice too much of that kind of wizardry in the shadow of the cathedral. Alderach might be displeased.” He looked at the sheath Jack had chosen. “However, I can see what you mean. That one is too short.” He measured the wand. “To carry this properly requires something different. I have the beginnings of another job that I can modify quickly. Be back in an hour, and it will be ready.”

  Jack grinned and paid the man for the sheath and left. He was close enough to the cathedral to go there next. He walked up the steps. People were going in and out of the place of worship, but not in particularly large numbers.

  He walked in and was struck by the size of the golden image of Alderach in his bull phase at the far end of the nave. People strolled around viewing the sculptures on the walls and the stained glass windows on the sides. The temple back home had paintings depicting various aspects of the deity and scenes from legends of Alderach’s interventions among humans. It was all new to him. Now he would have something interesting to talk about with the Raker Falls priest. The Bartonsee priests even wore a different kind of horned cap than the one worn by his home priest.

  Jack sat, just to absorb the wonder of the place. He had some time to kill and couldn’t think of a better way.

  “You are new to Bartonsee?” an early middle-aged priest said, standing next to Jack. “May I sit?”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s your cathedral.”

  “Not mine, Alderach’s” the priest said. “What brings you here?”

  “I’m on my way to Dorkansee, and we stopped here on the way. I’ve never been to a cathedral before. Our local temple is smaller, and the decorations are modest compared to all this.” Jack’s gaze swept the cathedral in front of him.

  The priest gave Jack a casual version of the cathedral’s history.

  “What is the Spring Parade?” Jack asked, remembering the comment from the stableman at the inn.

  The priest smiled. “Every spring and every fall, the lord of the city, Duke Hestor and the bishop walk the streets of Bartonsee from the west gate to the cathedral steps. There are musicians, dancing men and women, and entertainers of all kinds that begin the procession. It is a long and hallowed tradition in this city. It will happen the day after tomorrow at midday. Don’t miss it. The spring version is my favorite. The Fall Parade often gets out of hand with the harvest done.” The priest shook his head with distaste.

  “I think we will stay until then,” Jack said. If Tanner were anxious to get out of the city, Jack would try to talk him out of it. At the very least, he could tell Tanner and Helen to leave before him, and he would catch up. He thought he might like the Fall Parade better, from what the priest had said.

  “What is that on your hip? You have two objects of power. You are a wizard? You look too young to carry those.”

  “How did you know?” Jack asked.

  “Some priests are attuned to magic and can sense objects if we touch them or if we get close. You know about the manipulations?”

  Jack nodded. “Alderachean priests learn the first three.”

  The priest smiled again. “Any farther and a priest runs the risk of committing heresy. How far are you?”

  “First,” Jack said. “The wand shoots a thin thread of light. I don’t know how else to describe it. The sword—”

  “The sword is an object, too?” the priest said with alarm. “I didn’t detect it.

  “It just lightens the weapon when I swing it. That is a First Manipulation.”

  “And the third object, the one in your pocket?”

  “It is a seeker for an object of power, the Serpent’s Orb.” Jack pulled it out and handed it to the priest. “I am retrieving the object of power in Dorkansee for my master.”

  The priest moved the cube on Jack’s hand and observed the blue side shift, always pointing toward Dorkansee.

  “The Serpent’s Orb. I may have heard of it,” the priest said. He looked at the cube more closely. “This is nearly a Fourth Manipulation, but a benign one. I will let you have it back.” The priest stared at the sword. “I would be careful with that weapon, it borders on a Fifth Manipulation. Any personal enhancement is regarded as such.”

  “Not to my way of thinking,” Jack said. “Magic only makes the sword lighter. That is a First Manipulation. How different is i
t from lifting an object or teleportation?”

  “Teleportation is a Fifth Manipulation, young man. Don’t ever do such a thing within a building dedicated to Alderach. You will risk the ire of the priests.” The man frowned pulling at his chin. “Don’t fall too far. Wizards that live to serve others are tolerated by us, but wizards that serve themselves are our enemies and will always be regarded that way by us.” For some reason, the warning felt insincere.

  “My master spends most of his time healing in Raker Falls. That is where I am from. I have even lent him my power to help.”

  The priest’s eyebrows rose. “You helped? Did he call you a wizard’s helper?”

  Jack nodded. “I am the lowest of the low,” Jack said.

  “No you aren’t,” the priest said, now smiling again. “A wizard’s helper is a repository of power. We have priests’ helpers who serve the same purpose. They are somewhat rare among those with talent.”

  “So I’m not just a servant?”

  The priest laughed softly. “We are all servants, young man. It is what we are called to serve that is important. A priests’ helper is revered among us. If you choose to depart from your current path, you would be welcomed in any Alderachean community as a helper, if you haven’t become too tainted in wizardly ways.”

  “Patriarch, the bishop would like a word,” a priest said as soon as he walked up.

  “It was a pleasure to talk to you, young man.” The patriarch rose from his seat and left Jack to watch the pair leave. He had no idea what a patriarch was, but the man looked back at him as he walked away.

  The hour was about up, so Jack strolled around the rest of the cathedral ending up facing the grand and terrible visage of Alderach, the Bull. The Alderach statue in the cow phase at his home temple in Raker Falls wasn’t nearly as intimidating.

  The market was thinning out when he arrived at the leather maker’s stall. The man was still there working on something. Jack hoped it was his sheath, and it was about finished.

  “Ah, there you are. Just a moment,” the craftsman said. “Here, I just finished riveting the belt loop in place. I’m afraid I will need to charge you two more shillings.”

  Jack looked in his purse and found the coins. “It looks too nice for me.”

  “What is too nice?” the leather-maker said. “In a week, a month, or a year, it will look worn in, but I used good thick leather. This should last you for the rest of your life and then some.”

  Jack pulled out his wand and slipped it into the new sheath. It fit perfectly. He could see where the craftsman had stretched the leather of one side and cut out the touching area. To Jack, it was a work of art.

  “You can have this,” Jack said as he took off his old sheath and handed it over. “I think you did a great job.”

  The leather maker looked at Jack’s work on the handle of the wand. “If you wait a few minutes more, I will replace your grip. I can make it match the new sheath. I can put a cutout in that as well so you can touch the metal when you grip it if you wish.”

  Jack waited for a bit, enjoying the people watching one could always do at a market. He took his newly gripped wand and put it in the sheath. He thought it looked like a match and anticipated them aging well together, just like new boots did.

  He arrived back at the inn within the appointed hour, but Tanner and Helen weren’t anywhere to be found. He knocked on their doors and even asked the innkeeper if he had seen them, but no one had. Had they left him? Jack walked out to the stable yard and spotted their horses and the packhorse in stalls.

  He paced in the lobby until a disheveled, little, pot-bellied wizard walked in. His pointed hat was skewed, and his robe was so threadbare his underclothes could be seen here and there.

  “Are you Jack Winder?” the wizard asked.

  “I am, and you are?”

  “Quist, Ozzie Quist. I have news of your friends. They have been escorted to the duke’s jail.”

  “For what crime?” Jack said. “How could they be arrested when we arrived in Bartonsee early this afternoon?” Jack thought that he’d be hard-pressed to come up with something that would attract the guards in an afternoon. “Do you know the way to the jail? I’m new to the city,” Jack said.

  “That is why I am here. I am a friend, of sorts, to Tanner. He was able to send a message out to find you. I intercepted it, and here I am.”

  Jack nodded. “Take me there.” He looked longingly at people eating in the common room as he walked out. He figured he might miss his dinner.

  Chapter Eight

  ~

  Q uist walked funny. He often turned and laughed, but it was more like a giggle. Jack wondered what the odd man was like, and if he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Of course, Jack had no idea where he was going, but he kept his hand on his sword. At least he was armed for whatever might befall him.

  They walked through damp alleys and across busy streets, but eventually, they emerged in a large square facing a tall wall. A very large building, quite unlike the Bartonsee cathedral could be seen poking over. It had turrets and spires as well as windows with what looked like sturdy shutters. It was like drawings of the palace at Dorkansee, but probably not as large.

  “Here we are,” Quist said. “Our shortcut was a third shorter than taking conventional streets.” Odd, still odd, Jack thought.

  Quist led him around the corner to a main gate protected by two guards.

  “I brought the boy to see Tanner Simple,” Quist said.

  One of the guards pointed toward the gate with his thumb. Jack didn’t think he would be allowed entry so casually into the actual palace of the Duke. Why didn’t the city guard just put Tanner in a cell rather than in a dungeon? There had to be dungeons underneath the palace. That was what Jack had always thought.

  They entered a building outside the palace. It had a nicer front than any jail Jack had been in.

  “I brought the boy to see Tanner Simple.”

  “You can go in.”

  Jack walked into a cell as nice as his room at the inn.

  “Quist, what are you doing here?” Tanner asked, getting up from an easy chair. He put a book on the table next to him. A five-candle candelabra lit the room nicely.

  “I found your messenger and brought the boy to you,” Quist said.

  “It has been a long time, old friend.”

  “Indeed,” Quist said before he stepped aside for Jack.

  “I had expected you to have been beaten and thrown in a dirty, dank, dark dungeon,” Jack said. “Isn’t that what cells are like in palaces?”

  Tanner shrugged. “I am a special case. This is a holding cell, although most occupants wouldn’t call this a cell. I am not under arrest, exactly, but I am being detained.”

  “What have you done wrong?” Jack asked.

  “I set foot in Bartonsee. My half-brother is the Duke of the city.”

  Jack remembered what Tanner had told him. “Your father was the previous duke?”

  Tanner nodded. “That he was. I generally don’t speak to my brother, and now he wants me to walk in the Spring Parade. Ironic, isn’t it? My father did all he could to hide me, but my brother wishes to show me off. I suppose he wants to let everyone know he has a touch of common in him when he has nothing of the sort.”

  “Sounds like you are bitter,” Jack said.

  “A bit. Wouldn’t you be?” Tanner rose from the chair and went to the window. The panes were set in an iron frame.

  “I don’t know. I would have guessed you would have just gone along, and then we’d head north.”

  “You wouldn’t object to being paraded through the city?”

  “If I’m not in irons. Do you think the citizens will be throwing eggs or rotten fruit? That’s what we do to criminals in Raker Falls, to the really bad guys,” Jack said.

  Tanner laughed. “I guess not. Perhaps I need a broader perspective, but maybe not. We are going to have dinner with my brother tonight. I’m not so sure about Helen. She was a bit
too rambunctious when they took us in.”

  “Is she in this jail or a real one?”

  “She is here. Why don’t you talk to her to see if she will calm down? The captain of the guard asked for her good behavior, and she spit in his face. Tolerance only goes so far in Bartonsee.”

  “Only so far in Raker Falls, too, and I’m generally the one who needs the tolerance,” Jack said. “I’ll have a word.”

  “Guard!” Jack called.

  “The door isn’t locked,” Tanner said.

  “Oh.” Jack opened the door and apologized to the man on the other side who just laughed. “Where is the lady?”

  The guard snorted. “Lady? Around the corner; there is another guard. Her door is locked.”

  Jack knocked and announced who he was before the guard let him in. When he walked in, he had to step gingerly past all the broken things Helen had flung against the door.

  “I’d hate to see what happens when you get really mad,” Jack said. He was an expert at being a smart aleck.

  “Watch what you say, or I’ll throw you,” Helen said. Her hair was more disheveled than usual, and her lip appeared to be swollen.

  “Did they beat you?”

  “By Alderach’s breath, no! There was an altercation, and I was part of it. An errant punch, that is all,” she said, touching her mouth. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to calm you down, so we can all have some dinner tonight.”

  She grunted and turned away from him. Her room was much like Tanner’s although in much worse shape after her anger had gotten to work.

  “I found out something interesting today. Want to hear?” Jack said, thinking back to his conversation with the patriarch. He didn’t hear her say no, so he continued. “I never knew what a wizard’s helper really is. The Alderachean priests have something similar. They aren’t too creative since they call them priests’ helpers. Did you know that?”

  “I might have heard something about it,” Helen said turning around. “So you aren’t dirt under the girl’s feet?”