“Wren’s magic comes from the maternal line of her family. Only witches are born with the magic they inherit from their mothers. Every sorcerer and wizard must learn their trade from years of studying, years of practice. But to be a sha’tar, the magic must come from the paternal side.” Zarnoc removed the pipe from his lips. “John Mandrake was a warlock, which he inherited from his paternal side, and that is very rare. That is why Mandrake was the best at crafting weapons. Falstaff, Gregor, and Rivalen were exceptional swordsmiths, but none of them had magical blood. And this is why the king both revered your father and feared him.”
“A warlock? My father was a warlock?”
“Yes, and you are a sha’tar, my dear,” Zarnoc said. “You may be the last of your kind. The type of magic you have is powerful, but it must be developed and controlled. Not only can it restore powers to dormant magical weapons, it can also strengthen the powers of other magic users who are in your presence. The magic Wren, Jaelle, and I had at birth will grow stronger the longer we are near you. I certainly have grown stronger.”
“So, the king knew my father was a warlock and had him murdered,” Taliesin said, trying to absorb everything. “But why? I’ve seen what Wolf Killer can do. My father could have made many magical weapons for the king. Why not ask for my father’s help instead of killing him?”
“I suspect there was another reason,” he replied. “Who can say? To keep you from harm, Osprey agreed to look after you, and he swore never to reveal the truth to you or anyone else. In time, you will become a powerful sha’tar, but you have to believe in magic for that to happen, Taliesin. You have to believe in yourself and your abilities.”
“I can read the map.”
“Ah, the map. Zoltaire made his specialty item to be used by others of our ilk. It was a way of meeting friends and avoiding royal troops. That’s why it’s full of trickery, lies, and deceit. Zoltaire was an evil sorcerer; he enjoyed harming people. That map has caused many people, both greedy and innocent, to die. Now you’ve found me, I can train you to make even a spoon dance.”
Taliesin smiled. “How hard can that be?”
With a snap of his fingers, Zarnoc was standing before her, taller than even Roland, and had changed from his gypsy garments into a bright yellow robe and a matching long cap with a white tassel. “Madam, I am a professional,” he said. “I could train an idiot to cast a spell on a spoon.”
“No need to shout,” Taliesin said. She listened to the night and heard only an owl hooting and the rustle in the bushes made by a startled rabbit; nothing dangerous. But she felt uneasy, not only by what he’d told her about her heritage and her father’s death, but by all the other questions she hadn’t asked; about her mother, the true reason her father had been murdered, Roland’s motives, Sertorius’ allegiance, and her own future.
“We must find Ringerike before anyone else,” Zarnoc said, as if he’d read her mind. “The Raven Clan once held dominion over the Eagle and Wolf Clans. King Korax kept the Caladonians from crossing the northern border, but that changed at the Battle of Triplet, when the three clans gathered under the Raven King’s banner to fight Prince Tarquin Draconus and the barbarian horde. They say the sword shined a brilliant blue that day and blinded the enemy. None could stand against Korax. He killed hundreds before Prince Tarquin pierced his eye with a magical arrow. Be warned, child. All magical swords have a fatal flaw. For whatever reason, the eyes are the only spot Ringerike cannot protect.
“After Tarquin killed Korax, he took Ringerike and crowned himself King of Caladonia. The Raven Clan was reduced to nothing more than looters, yet the Wolf and Eagle Clans prospered, and now each is attempting to gain more power.
“Ringerike was made for Korax. It eventually betrayed Tarquin and led him to a horrible death,” Zarnoc said. “Korax and Ringerike were buried in the cave, by order of Tarquin’s heir, and the usurper’s body now lies in the royal crypt in Tantalon Castle. But that’s not the point. Only someone born of the royal line of King Korax Sanqualus can control Ringerike, for it will eventually cause the death of anyone not of his ancient royal line.”
“That does me no good,” Taliesin said. “King Korax has no descendants. The House of Sanqualus died with him.”
“The map can tell you if a descendant exists, Taliesin. Have you ever looked?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t know it was important.”
Taliesin unfastened the knotted leather cord on her pouch, reached inside, and made certain the medallion was there. She felt an egg-shaped pouch that contained medicinal herbs, a necklace with medium-sized blue beads that was broken at the clasp, a case of needles and stitching thread, and a tiny dagger no more than the length of her index finger. Nestled among her treasures, she found the palm-sized folded piece of parchment, its texture coarse to her fingertips. The map reacted to her touch and, as she pulled it out, turned into what felt like homespun cloth. She held it by the two top corners. The night breeze ruffled the material as if it were a small flag, making it flap and twist in her grip.
“Stop that,” she said. “I need a map, not a scarf.” In an instant, she was holding a solid, square-shaped board that dropped onto her lap.
“That’s interesting,” Zarnoc said. “Lose your temper and magic comes naturally to you.”
The kingdom of Caladonia and the eight dukedoms were displayed in earth tones with black borders. Raven’s Nest was a tiny black blur, which she interpreted to mean it had been burned to the ground. She wanted to see her location and a tiny white dot appeared twenty-five miles west of the Volgate, in the dukedom of Garridan. Red stars for magical weapons appeared on the map, but none showed the location of Korax’s heir. It was obvious either an heir didn’t exist or the map was lying.
Taliesin thought about Roland and her friends. A white dot was coming from the south on the very road where she and Zarnoc waited. She thought of Prince Sertorius, and a dot appeared five miles to the east, followed by many smaller dots; Wolfmen were trailing after the prince, and their numbers were swelling as they moved at an alarming rate.
“What do you see?” Zarnoc asked, puffing on his pipe.
“A map of Caladonia,” she said. “Borders are outlined. Every castle, town, village, and ruin is marked, including Raven’s Nest. I see a green sea serpent swimming in the Pangian Sea. White dots show our location and those of Roland, Sertorius, and the Wolfmen. There are red stars for magical weapons, but I don’t see a mark for Korax’s heir. Is the map lying?”
“Perhaps,” Zarnoc said, sounding excited. “But look at all the magical weapons shown! There is Calaburn, Flamberge, and Graysteel—all mighty swords! If only we had the time, we could make a fortune finding and selling magical weapons.”
Taliesin put away the map. “That’s not why I’m doing this,” she said. “I want to find Ringerike and try to do some good, Zarnoc. I believe in magic and in my abilities, so I have to believe Ringerike will be loyal to me and will obey me.”
“Then let’s hope that is precisely what will happen,” Zarnoc said.
Riders emerged from the dark and came toward them. Taliesin and Zarnoc stood. Tamal, in the lead, shouted to the others and reined in his horse while Roland charged toward Taliesin and jumped off his horse. His long legs swiftly carried him to Taliesin, and before she had time to blink, he snatched her into his arms and kissed her. Her knees buckled and she clung to his shoulders, feeling her worries fade away as she gazed into his eyes.
“I was so worried,” Roland said, in a tender voice. “Thank Heggen you were not harmed. I wanted to look for you, but Zarnoc said he could find you. Are you all right?” He wore a look of concern that touched her heart.
Taliesin wasn’t quite sure where to start, or what should be told to the knight. “I’m fine, Roland,” she said, wanting to keep it simple.
The Fregian knight set her down. “We have a bit of riding to do before we can stop and rest,” he said. “Let’s get you onto your horse. I’ll help you; I know you’re exhau
sted.”
She followed Roland to her black stallion and let him help her into the saddle. Zarnoc hurried to his little mule, stroked her nose, and climbed onto her back. Thalagar gave a snort and Taliesin patted his neck and watched Roland mount Kordive. Hawk, Wren, Rook, and Jaelle looked relieved they’d found her, and she smiled at them. Tamal had asked the Nova brothers to remain with them. The Ghajar waited quietly behind the Ravens; Taliesin was glad to have them.
“The Wolfmen are not far behind,” Tamal said. “The wind has changed direction, and so will we. I know a place outside of Tunberg where we will be safe. Follow me.”
Thalagar lifted his hooves in an almost dainty fashion, and, sniffing at the wind, tucked his head and watched the road ahead as the group moved out. Taliesin followed Tamal as he turned off the road and entered the forest at a fast clip.
“Your horse is loyal, as Andorrans are bred to be,” Tamal said. “He did not run away when you fell into the pond. He stayed there, waiting for you, but came when I called him.” She glanced at Tamal, surprised to hear that. “I have a way with horses,” he said. “I train horses, but seldom see any as fine as your own. My Gazel is a mix of Andorran and Brennan, bred for endurance and speed. Andorrans have long legs and short necks, which is why they run faster than any other breed. But loyalty cannot be taught, it must be earned.”
“Thank you for taking care of my friends,” she said. “Now we’re out of the Volgate, I thought the scouts would return to the caravan. I’m pleased they coming with us.”
“For now,” Tamal said. “There is safety in numbers.”
Two of the Nova brothers were sent ahead to scout the trail. Taliesin gazed over her shoulder. On the far eastern horizon, the first rays of sunlight appeared and cast a pink and orange hue across the sky. The pine trees blocked out the sun itself, casting dark shadows upon the ground. Taliesin let Tamal move ahead, allowing Hawk to take his place beside her.
“I’m glad to see you’re alive,” he said. “What happened? One minute you were in the saddle, and the next you vanished into the pool. I thought you’d drowned.”
“The marsh gas made me faint,” she said, “but I appreciate your concern.”
“Without you, there wouldn’t be much point in going on. Try not to fall out of the saddle again,” he said. “Roland was beside himself with worry, and I’ll admit I was worried, too.”
He gave a nod and fell into line.
* * * * *
Chapter Eighteen
Day was upon them by the time Tamal led them across a rocky ridge with views of the sprawling city of Tunberg and, located on a hill, Castle Stalker. Duke Volund Fortinbraus lived in Havendor Castle, further east, but one of his sons lived in Castle Stalker. The Fortinbraus family was loyal to the King, she thought, as a long line of heavy cavalry come out of the castle and ride away on the winding road.
Taliesin lost sight of the cavalry as the path led away from the ridge and into the thickness of the pine trees. She wondered if the Aldagarns were headed to Maldavia to join the royal army or if the duke’s son was hoping to waylay Prince Sertorius. She wanted to ask Roland, but when she turned she found Jaelle riding behind her; Roland was bringing up the rear. The gypsy girl urged her horse closer as they passed under a low branch. The narrow path twisted and opened to reveal a clearing with a rocky escarpment that opened into a cavernous dark cave. Tamal dismounted, drew his sword, and entered the large cavern. At his whistle, the four gypsy brothers rode into the cave, taking Tamal’s horse with them.
“What happened to you in the Volgate?” Jaelle asked, drawing her horse to Taliesin as she slid out of the saddle. “Were you injured? One bite from a Wolfman...”
“No, I wasn’t bitten,” Taliesin said. “I didn’t get that close to them.”
“There is no cure, you know. Don’t fall from your saddle again,” the gypsy girl said. “It could mean your life if you fall off your horse in the desert. You griegos are not known for your riding abilities. In the desert, those who fall are left behind.”
“Well, thankfully, Zarnoc doesn’t feel the same way you do.”
Taliesin led Thalagar into the cave and went about removing her gear and the saddle. Rook walked over to take Thalagar’s reins as well as the reins of the rest of the Ravens’ horses, led them to the back of the cave to a pool of water, and fed them. Taliesin dropped her trappings beside the cave wall and noticed the gypsies had gathered at the entrance of the cave, where they were talking softly together. Tamal and Jaelle glanced with disapproval every now and then in her direction. One fall and she was labeled a bad rider. Wren and Hawk joined Taliesin, placed their gear beside hers, and rolled out their blankets. Roland was helping Rook with the horses, while Zarnoc sat on a rock and quietly smoked his pipe.
“We will be safe here, but no fires,” Tamal said. He left two of the four brothers on guard at the entrance. Jaelle walked at his side as they came to Taliesin and her friends. “We’re close to Stalker Castle and can’t risk cooking food. You saw how many of Lord Valesk’s knights were on the road. You’ll have to make do with bread and dried meat.”
“Are we safe here?” Hawk asked.
“This forest is patrolled by knights,” Tamal said. “Duke Fortinbraus’ eldest son is a very cautious man, and does not care for gypsies.”
“You sound worried,” Hawk said, lying on his pallet. “I didn’t know the Ghajar scare so easily.”
Tamal’s cheeks flushed bright red. “For years, I have come here to trade, avoiding capture by Duke Fortinbraus and his sons,” he said. “Being a prisoner of Lord Valesk is the last thing you want, Master Hawk. I am not afraid of this man or his knights, but I am careful. Smuggling you and your friends across the border will be difficult. The roads will be patrolled and so will the bridges across the Minoc River. You would do well to show me a little respect; I am the only person keeping you from the dungeons of Castle Stalker.”
Hawk rolled his eyes. “Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.” He glanced at Jaelle as she helped Wren make a pallet. Jaelle had taken the space Taliesin intended to use, so Taliesin moved her gear over to accommodate the girl.
“You are arrogant and foolish, Hawk,” Tamal said. “My sister is not impressed with you, nor am I. Duke Fortinbraus and his sons are loyal to the king. They will not ask questions when they slit your throat.”
Roland tossed his bedroll beside Taliesin’s. He’d changed out of his gypsy garb and wore leather pants, but no shirt. His massive, hairy body was a welcome sight to Taliesin, and she immediately started to make their pallets. Days without shaving had sprouted hair growth on top of his head, and his beard was getting thicker.
“If we have any problem with Lord Valesk, I’ll handle it,” Roland said. “I know Valesk and his father quite well.” He regarded Tamal and Hawk with a stern look. “I expect each of you to take your turn on guard duty. Tamal, keep watch with your men for two hours, and then wake Hawk and me. Your other two men will take the last watch.”
Tamal bowed. “As you wish, Sir Roland,” he said, returning to his men.
“You handled that well,” Taliesin said, when Roland sat on his blanket. She could smell his body odor, found it pleasing, not repellant, and cuddled close when he laid beside her. He turned toward her, his eyelids already growing heavy, and slid his arm around her.
“Let me handle things from now on,” he said. “This is what I was trained to do and why you need me. Tamal and Hawk will be at each other throats if I don’t keep them on a short leash. I don’t know the names of the Nova brothers, but they take orders, so that’s good.”
Taliesin rested her head on his shoulder. “You act so tough, but that’s why I love you,” she said, her voice so soft she wondered if he’d heard her. When Roland didn’t say it in return, she grew concerned, fearing he didn’t feel the same way, and looked at him. His eyes were closed, but he was smiling.
* * *
Taliesin awoke to the sound of Wren screaming. She wiped the sleep from her e
yes and sat up. Roland wasn’t beside her and she assumed he was on guard duty. Nor did she see Hawk or Rook. Wren lay three pallets over, beside Jaelle, who was holding onto the girl’s hand.
“Wake her up, Jaelle!” Taliesin said, in earnest. “She mustn’t shout.”
“I’ve tried. I can’t wake her.”
A dark silhouette appeared and blocked Taliesin’s view. Rook set aside his silver spear, knelt beside Wren, and shook her gently by the shoulders, trying to rouse her from the nightmare. Zarnoc hurried over and placed a hand on Rook’s shoulder. As Taliesin stood up and prepared to go help, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned. Roland, fully dressed and holding Moonbane, stood behind her, a serious look on his face.
“We’ve seen riders,” he said. “Yellow banners. Valesk’s men.”
“She’ll alert the enemy to our position if she is not silenced,” Tamal said, jumping to his feet. Showing no concern for Wren, he drew Jaelle to her feet and led her away. The four Ghajar scouts gathered near their pallets and muttered together, glancing at Wren in concern. Hawk was on guard duty at the entrance.
“Zarnoc, is there anything you can do for her?” Taliesin said. She sent Roland to stand watch with Hawk. The girl’s shouts were growing louder.
Zarnoc knelt next to Wren, and lifted her head in his hands. He spoke softly to her in a language Taliesin had never heard before. She assumed it was his native language, Lorian, and the words were a magical incantation, for after a few minutes, Wren grew silent, stirred, and opened her eyes. Rook immediately pulled Wren into his arms. Wren flung her arms around the young man’s neck and clung to him as if she’d never let go. Jaelle came back and placed her hand on Zarnoc’s shoulder. He patted her hand.
“Wren has had a powerful vision,” Zarnoc said. “It required a spell to wake her. Jaelle, get Wren some water. Don’t look so worried, Rook. Our little Wren will be all right, especially with so many mother hens to look after her. Now move aside, boy, so I may talk to her.”
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