“Especially the queen,” Taliesin said, recalling the story. “Glabbrio the Glib wrote ‘Frithswith the Fresh,’ a rather good play, but it ends sadly. When the king learned of the queen’s affair with the sorcerer, he cut off Frithswith’s hands and threw them both into the dungeon to die of starvation.”
Zarnoc turned his attention to the ham. He ate with his fingers, ignoring the knife and fork set out for him. Wren laughed and refilled his cup with wine.
“Master Zarnoc,” Roland said. “How long have you lived here?”
“A very long time, but I come and go as I please.”
“Have you been to Maldavia recently? Hawk met an old man on the road who gave him the map that sits before you,” Roland said. “I noticed the ink is the same as you used to draw the raven we found in your room. Taliesin saw an old man and his dog at the Black Rock Inn. Was that you and Ginger?”
“Yes, yes,” Zarnoc said, nodding. “There has been an increase of interest in magical weapons of late, and everyone knows Taliesin has a knack for finding swords. You do prefer being called by that name, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. Thank you for asking.”
“Not at all, my dear. As I was saying, I simply thought it time Taliesin found Ringerike. If you intend to find the Cave of Chu’Alagu, you should take the route through the Volgate, but it’s a terrible place filled with marshes, swamp gas, and quicksand, and you will need a guide if you hope to reach the other side.”
“You been that way?” Roland asked. “I suppose you want to be our guide.”
“Not recently, nor willingly,” Zarnoc said. “The Volgate is not half as treacherous as the Salayen Desert. No water or living creature can be found for miles around, and then there are the Djaran nomads. If you thought the gypsies were bad, the Djarans are far worse. Have you met any gypsies before, Roland?”
Taliesin wondered why Roland didn’t answer and assumed his reluctance was due to unpleasant memories. Through the years, the Ghajaran gypsies had visited Raven’s Nest to trade, but that had stopped a year ago. She’d never met Shan Octavio, their leader, though Osprey had thought well of the man and spoke highly of him.
“Do gypsies visit you here?” Taliesin said. “My father traded with them every spring. He traded a Gregor sword I found for an Andorran colt, and that’s how I came to own Thalagar.”
“Sometimes they visit,” replied Zarnoc. “I am on good terms with them.”
Zarnoc finished his meal and filled his ivory pipe with smoking weed. He raised his index finger and produced a small flame at the end. He lit the pipe, puffed away happily, and, as the weed started to snap and crackle, spouted smoke out of the corner of his pursed lips. The cloud turned into the shape of a rabbit and quickly darted off, fading away. Wren laughed and Zarnoc let out a gruff chuckle that didn’t remotely sound like his own voice, but he caught her watching, and it turned into a giggle.
“I don’t trust this guy,” Roland said, turning to whisper into Taliesin’s ear. She slid her arm around his shoulders and brushed her nose against his cheek. He turned his head, and they shared a deep kiss before she pulled aside, smiling widely.
“Be nice,” Taliesin said. The wizard was making animals out of smoke rings for Wren, but the girl was tired and sagged in her chair. “I want him to feel comfortable with us. Having him as a guide is exactly what we need, but I want to proceed with caution.”
“A direct approach is best,” Roland said. He turned to the wizard. “Zarnoc, if you were near Raven’s Nest, why didn’t you make contact with Taliesin there? Why all the secrecy, and why the interest in the Raven Sword? I want the truth, old man.”
“We all want the truth, “Zarnoc said. He puffed on his pipe and gazed at Roland with curious, amber eyes. “There had been a great deal of activity at Raven’s Nest, and I decided it was safer to approach Hawk. I’m well aware the Wolf and Eagle Clans are anxious to collect all the magical weapons they can find. We can’t have that, now can we?”
Roland shook his head.
“I’m a witch,” Taliesin said, unable to stay quiet a moment longer. “Captain Wolfgar of the Wolf Clan arrived at our home a few nights ago, and demanded Master Osprey allow him to interrogate me. But what he was really after was a scroll I’d found on the battlefield outside of Burnlak. The Eagle Clan was looking for it as well. It’s a map.”
“That is interesting. You see, a fine lord arrived the other day and asked me how to reach the Cave of the Snake God,” Zarnoc said. “I have a reputation as a wise hermit in these parts, and many people come here to ask for my advice or help. ‘Just passing through,’ he said. Wanted to know if I could tell him about Ringerike, or take him to its hiding place.”
“What was this man’s name?” Roland asked. “Was it Prince Sertorius?”
Hawk walked over and stood behind the sorcerer, while Rook remained on guard duty at the door. He’d heard everything and didn’t look happy. Roland stood, his hand on his sword, both doing everything she’d hoped to avoid. Bullying the wizard wasn’t the way to get answers, and Taliesin feared for Zarnoc’s safety. Wren, however, folded her arms on the table and rested her head, eyes closing as she gave a little shudder.
“What did you do to my sister?” Hawk said. “Did you put a spell on her, old man?”
“Dreaming can be a paradox,” Zarnoc said. “Is it real what she dreams, or is it only a dream? Does she dream of the ghosts who live here? Perhaps Paris and Matilda, the former bailiff and head maid. Oh, the White Lady and Hangman linger here, too, although they usually appear for a chat right before sunset.” He gazed at Wren and puffed on his pipe. “I knew the child was gifted the moment I laid eyes on her. Like Taliesin, Wren is a natural-born witch, while I had to study for years to acquire my magic skills. Dreams and visions are similar, but there is a difference. You dream when you are asleep, and you have visions when fully awake. Wren isn’t sleeping. She is awake, I assure you, so please don’t shout, Eugene.”
“Don’t call me that,” Hawk said. “And Wren is fine. She does this all the time. Just tell us if Sertorius is here? Is he going to return? Is the Wolf Clan coming here to meet him?”
Zarnoc’s eyes narrowed, reminding Taliesin of his cat. “He was a rich man,” the wizard said. “Wore a very handsome pair of tall black boots. I sent him to the Volgate. I very much doubt he will find his way out once he enters. Not without a guide.”
“Old man, if this is a trap, you’ll be the first to die,” Roland said. He drew his dagger as Hawk grabbed Zarnoc by the shoulders. The knife was pressed against Zarnoc’s throat, but the old man remained calm.
“Yes, it was Prince Sertorius. And no, he is not returning.” Zarnoc looked at Taliesin and placed his pipe into his mouth to puff. “I know Osprey, know him well, and he always treated me with kindness. Shall I not be treated with the same respect?”
“Let him go,” Taliesin said. “Roland! Hawk! Both of you release Zarnoc and stop acting like brigands. I want to hear what he has to say, and he can hardly talk freely with a knife at his throat. Let him go before someone gets hurt.”
Roland lowered the knife and stepped aside, but Hawk jerked the wizard from his seat and shook him like a rag doll. Zarnoc dropped his pipe, but somehow managed to catch it before it hit the ground. From the bowl of the pipe came a cloud of white smoke that turned into a large ghostly hand. The hand slapped Hawk with great force and sent him flying backwards across the room. Hawk groaned as he sat up, dazed and visibly in pain. The ghostly hand vanished. Rook hurried over, assisted Hawk to his feet, helped him to the table, sat him on a crate, and then knelt beside Wren.
“Just calm down,” Taliesin said, rising to grab Roland by the arm. She pointed at the chair. “Sit and shut up. Hawk, no more outbursts. Zarnoc, no more magic. We’re not used to magic, and it’s rather nerve rattling.”
Zarnoc blinked. “Ever?”
“Just for now,” she said. “Please, sir. Answer our questions. I don’t want anyone else to be hurt, and it feels like we
should be friends, so tell us what we need to know, Zarnoc.”
“Very well,” he replied. “When your father, John Mandrake, died, I’m the one who had sent for Master Osprey and told him to rescue the child before the king could get his hands on her. Even then, I knew you were gifted, Taliesin. So did the king. But Osprey arrived in time and whisked you away to his home. I’ve come to visit you, from time to time, traveling with the Ghajaran or as a peddler, but I’ve kept my eye on you.”
“You knew my real father?” Taliesin was stunned by the news.
“I’m more than one hundred years old, child. I know many people, and John Mandrake was one of them. Sometimes I’d stop by and he’d feed me dinner, and in return, I’d say a spell or two over his forged swords. I’m surprised you don’t remember me. The silver sword you carry, the one you call Wolf Killer, is a sword I enchanted. It was meant for Prince Sertorius. Strange it should find its way to you, for two nights ago he arrived with his Knights of Chaos and a handful of royal guardsmen. I’d say there were at least sixty men in his company. They are traveling to Garridan. Let’s hope they never arrive.”
“Wait, what?” Taliesin said. “You enchanted Wolf Killer? What is the enchantment? What does it do?”
“It does this, and that, and will cause you to do the other thing,” the wizard replied.
The information was far more than she’d expected. Knowing Wolf Killer had been enchanted by Zarnoc was important, but knowing it had been meant for Sertorius troubled her. It didn’t seem like a coincidence, and she hated to think her life was prearranged, but that was how she was starting to feel. Everyone else knew about her past, about Mandrake, and about her ability to find valuable weapons, and here she’d immersed herself in a race to find the Raven Sword. Even that seemed prearranged, and she longed to speak to Osprey, wanting to know what he knew about her past, but that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
“Now is not the time to talk about John Mandrake,” Zarnoc said, in a kind voice. “But I knew him, and I know Osprey. I consider both my friends. The last thing I would ever do is cause you any harm. Throughout your life, I have been your protector, and I am still doing that job, as is Roland. When Prince Sertorius came here and asked if I had a spare Zoltaire map, I pretended to be quite mad.”
“That’s not a far reach,” Hawk muttered.
The wizard ignored the comment. “Zoltaire was an evil sorcerer,” he replied, “but he did one good thing in his life; he created the Deceiver’s Maps. Maps that will lead the user to every magical weapon in the world. I only know of three that exist, and one happens to be inside your pouch, Mistress Taliesin. Why don’t you show it to me now? I think I’ve proven to be trustworthy.”
“You are clever,” Taliesin said. “I found it at the Battle of Burnlak, and it’s caused nothing but hardship and grief for my clan.” She removed the map from the pouch and placed it on the table. The texture felt like smooth leather, different from before when it had appeared as parchment. “The lines keep moving when I try to read it. Roland could see the lines, but Hawk couldn’t.”
Hawk let out a snort. “Can you read it or not, old man?”
“Of course, I can read a magical map. I’m a wizard! Zoltaire was a sorcerer. It’s not quite the same thing, Eugene,” Zarnoc said, taking delight in needling the young man. “For all his flash and style, Zoltaire enjoyed using his magic to make people suffer. I am quite the opposite; in fact, I go out of my way to help most people.” He cleared his throat. “It was quite careless of someone to drop this map on the battlefield. Either the map was dropped by someone stupid, or it was deliberately placed there for the daughter of John Mandrake to find.”
Ginger jumped onto the table, landing so lightly it went unnoticed by Wren, though the cat landed close to her head. The yellow cat glanced at the map, took a sniff, and commenced licking her front paw.
“Zoltaire maps never look the same,” Zarnoc said. “These maps have a mind of their own. It can reveal itself as paper, leather, or even a board, whatever you desire. Sertorius wouldn’t be able to read the map, even if he had it. Nor can his silly priests or Knights of Chaos. Nor can Wolfmen and Eagle legionnaires. Only a real magic user can read a Deceiver’s Map and not be misled or tricked. It’s no wonder Roland couldn’t control it or Eugene saw nothing at all.”
“I told you not to use that name,” Hawk said, but he sounded less angry, overcome by a sudden sleepiness. He placed his head on the table, like his sister, and his snores were proof he was soon asleep. Rook, seated on the floor next to Wren, rested his head on her leg and was also soon fast asleep.
“Is that necessary?” Taliesin said. “I asked you not to use magic, Zarnoc.”
“Yes, well, I need peace and quiet,” he said, “and Eugene is very annoying.”
The wizard gave the map his full attention, tracing a finger along the lines as they appeared, shifted, and then held still. Taliesin and Roland came around the table, stood behind Zarnoc, and gazed at the map. Five red stars appeared along their route through Aldagar and into Garridan.
“Magical weapon,” Zarnoc said. He pointed at a larger red star far to the west that appeared along with the words ‘Cave of Chu’Alagu.’ “This is where we need to go. It’ll shift again on you, Roland, but Taliesin will be able to control the map, in time. Now put the map away; I’ve seen all I need to. Perhaps you’ll let me ride the little mule. We really don’t need all the equipment you brought; I’m perfectly able to provide what we need. You two may use my bed. You’ll find clean sheets in the wardrobe.”
Taliesin folded the map and placed it inside the pouch. As she and Roland started for the stairs, Zarnoc sprang out of his chair. His arm grew distressingly long as he reached out to grasp Roland’s Black Wing medallion. The necklace vanished and the old man held the medallion to his narrowed eyes.
“This is the very medallion I gave to Osprey to keep him safe,” Zarnoc said. “I had no idea the old goat would let his captains wear it all these years. But then, sometimes keeping something in plain sight is the best way to keep it safe.”
Taliesin and Roland exchanged a quick glance. The wizard tapped the medallion and the raven faded, replaced by a coiled snake, but the moon on the opposite side remained.
“It’s obvious you placed some kind of spell on this badge to hide the snake. I don’t think I like illusions,” Taliesin said. “I never asked Osprey about it. I just figured it was a lucky talisman. Is it magical?”
“To be precise, my dear, it is a key. A key needed to open the door to the temple inside the cave, and when you have an item like this in your possession, it’s always best to rely on an illusion to hide what it really is.” Zarnoc handed the gold medallion to Taliesin. “You should keep this on you, not with Roland. If you are not in a rush to bed the maiden, Roland, then both of you sit, and let’s have some more wine.”
Roland tossed several more logs onto the fire and sat in front of it. He produced a flask of wine and quickly filled the three cups that appeared in front of them.
“Many centuries ago,” Zarnoc said, his cup in hand, “a cult built the temple and there they prayed to their snake god, Chu’Alagu. Chu’Alagu had been a god, but he angered Stroud, the leader of all gods, who turned him into a giant snake. The cult worshiped the snake and offered him human sacrifices. Back then, the Salayen Desert was a jungle where plants and animals flourished, but as the weather changed it turned to desert, and the cult and their god were forgotten. So was Ringerike, which King Tarquin’s son placed inside of the temple, along with the body of King Korax. Now, about Korax...”
A small cry came from Wren. Rook rapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention. Rook held her as the girl started to groan and thrash. Hawk lifted his head and sat up. Taliesin was surprised the sleep spell hadn’t lasted longer; apparently it wasn’t one of Zarnoc’s more powerful spells. Her curiosity gave way to concern for the girl, for Wren remained in a restless slumber.
“What’s wrong with her?”
Hawk said. “Why doesn’t she wake up?”
“I told you, boy, she’s not asleep,” the old wizard said. “She’s having a waking dream.” He went to Wren and placed his hand on her hair. “You hold her heart and trust, young man,” he said to Rook. “Without you, Rook, I doubt she’d have lived this long. Eugene doesn’t understand the magic that runs through her veins, but you do, and so does Taliesin. It is for you to protect her at all costs, Rook. She loves you.”
Rook nodded and hugged the girl tightly.
“What’s this?” Hawk said, sounding angry. “Rook can neither hear, nor speak, yet he just nodded. He understood you, and he wasn’t reading your lips.”
“You’re as obtuse as you are stupid,” Zarnoc said. “Rook isn’t a deaf mute. He has his own secrets. Some things that happen to children are best not mentioned. It’s easier to forget if you pretend you cannot talk or hear. Just as it was easier for Roland to pretend he was nothing but a criminal, when he’s actually the King’s man, though a good man. As for you, Eugene, that’s a story for another day.”
Rook pounded the table again, his dark eyes shimmering with worry.
“A cup of Lumeister mint tea will do the trick,” Zarnoc said, “and she’ll be right as rain.” He went to an old chest covered with hay. With a wide stroke of his arm, he swept the hay aside and opened the lid, revealing a very clean and tidy array of bottled potions and jars of herbs. He picked up a box and opened it to reveal a bowl containing tea leaves the color of lavender. “Ah, this is what I want,” he said. He set the bowl on the table, reached into the sleeve of his dirty robe, and produced a cup. He set the cup beside the bowl and then pointed his finger. Hot water appeared inside the cup, along with purple leaves that swirled with a wave of his hand as steam rose, and he gave a nod to Rook. “Have her drink the tea while it’s hot,” he said. “It’s my own remedy. It will help with the headache she’ll have after the vision passes. Always does.”
Seeker of Magic Page 17