Seeker of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  Taliesin, Wren, and Jaelle followed Duke de Boron toward another blue door, this one oval-shaped with silver studs and adorned with a mermaid brass knocker, and they paused as the morning sun appeared. A golden glow spread across the white stones of Dunatar Castle, as well as the slender towers, the ramparts, and the high walls. The pounding surf was a steady background presence, so tranquil and serene after being pursued, thirsty and hungry, for a week in the harsh desert. Six guards in sea green tunics, and breastplates and helmets of silver, stood at attention along the path. More guards stood sentry duty on the battlements, and teams of three walked through the courtyard. As the duke approached the door, it was opened from the inside by a male servant in a bright yellow coat and turquoise shoes.

  “We’ll take wine on the veranda,” Duke de Boron said. The servant rushed off and two more appeared. A young woman in coral pink and a young man in lavender opened two large doors tiled in cobalt, yellow, red, and orange, and they led the way into an L-shaped room that served as the dining hall and throne room. Heavy white beams supported the roof, adorned with the flags and banners of ten generations of the de Boron family and the royal Draconian flags of King Frederick. If Taliesin had any question as to the House of de Boron’s loyalty, it seemed to favor King Frederick. Five long wooden tables, covered in gold tablecloths and decorated with bouquets of fresh-cut flowers, filled the length of the room. Twenty high-backed wooden chairs with blue and red embroidered cushions were placed in perfect alignment on each side of the tables. At the end of the dining hall, facing the main doors, was a massive stained-glass window, over thirty feet tall and twenty feet wide, that showed the story of a de Boron nobleman with a trident fighting a sea serpent, taming it, and then chaining the creature to the cliffs beneath the castle, facing the sea. Two white ash chairs with blue cushions of different sizes were placed upon a dais on the left side of the room, beneath an oval stained-glass window of a green sea serpent with jaws wide open. The base was surrounded with beautiful seashells, the smallest the size of a sea turtle, that were filled with red and yellow flowering plants.

  “Dunatar is not quite as fine as the throne room of Tantalon Castle,” Duke de Boron said, turning to smile at Taliesin and her two companions as they walked past the throne. “When this castle was built, it was intended for a Draconian prince, but was bestowed upon my family instead. Our sea trade has made Garridan one of the richest dukedoms, and we have open trade with seven dukedoms and the royal city, keeping them supplied with rare silks, spices, mined gold and gems, as well as foreign products.”

  “At one time,” Jaelle said, breaking in, “my father, Shan Octavio, and the Ghajarans shared trading rights with the Djaran, but in recent years those trading lanes have been cut off by the nomads and desert raiders.”

  “Something I mean to discuss with Duke Fortinbraus; I need his help to maintain law and order at the Minoc River,” de Boron said as his servants opened a side door that led to a beautiful veranda that overlooked the garden. Several large white wicker chairs with patterned cushions sat about the area, along with a bench covered in leopard skin, fringed pillows set on rugs, and a low round table where small plates of fruit and a slender pitcher of wine had been set.

  Zarnoc jumped off Taliesin’s shoulder, landed on the table, and waddled over to take a grape from a bowl with his black, slender beak. As she took a seat in one of the wicker chairs, Taliesin placed the sword, still covered by the cloak, on the ground next to her and accepted a glass of wine from the woman in pink, who shyly avoided her gaze. The duke sat beside her and glanced now and then at the draped sword. Jaelle took the bench and Wren lay on the cushions, her forehead creased from an oncoming headache. While they were served wine, Taliesin studied de Boron; he was sweating, a sign he was nervous, though his fears had lessened with the presence of the other two girls. But it was obvious, at least to Taliesin, he was uncomfortable sitting next to her, and she waited for him to ask about Ringerike, wanting to see what he’d been told by the prince and court gossipers.

  “This was my wife’s favorite room in the castle,” the duke said. “This is far more charming than taking refreshments in the hall.” He raised his glass. “Let us drink to the health of Shan Octavio, and hope we will soon reopen the trading routes to your tribe.” Everyone lifted their glasses and took a sip of the red, fruity wine. “How fortunate the Shan sent you, his eldest daughter, here so we might have the opportunity to talk and sort out this matter. And to you, of course, Raven Mistress, and your late father, Master Osprey. You honor me by coming so far to seek sanctuary in this time of civil unrest.”

  “Please, call me ‘Taliesin.’ We should be thanking you, my lord. There was no place else for us to go. If Prince Sertorius hadn’t suggested we meet him here, I really don’t know where we would have gone; I only know we couldn’t go home.” The duke took another drink. He wore a smile, pleasant enough on his long face, yet she wanted their conversation kept short, and she hoped for the opportunity to clean up before she saw Prince Sertorius. Her boots were splattered with mud and dried green blood from the hydra. Self-consciously, she lifted a hand to her hair—it would take hours to comb out the snags.

  “You are a natural beauty, Mistress Taliesin. Please, do not worry about appearances. You and your friends have been through a terrible ordeal. Have something to eat to tide you over until the banquet this evening,” Duke de Boron said, pushing a plate of food closer to her. “Prince Sertorius told me the Raven Clan had been wiped out by the Wolf Clan. I am saddened to hear about the fate of your father, Master Osprey. I am quite certain Prince Sertorius will personally handle this matter on your father’s behalf. There will be an inquiry, of course, and if Chief Lykus is found guilty, he will most likely be banished.”

  “Chief Lykus has sided with Prince Almaric,” Taliesin said. “The only way to handle this matter is to destroy Wolf’s Lair and the Wolf Clan.”

  A servant came to the duke and stood with head bowed, until motioned forward to whisper into Richelieu’s ear. An annoyed look appeared on the duke’s disfigured face, and he waved the servant away, cleared his throat, and held out his long-fingered hand to Taliesin. “It seems the prince has requested he be allowed to join us in an hour. He was quite exhausted when he and his men arrived last night,” he said. “Not to worry. We now have a little more time to get to know one another. I’ll have my servants escort you to your rooms when they are prepared. The view of the ocean isn’t available in Maldavia; this will be a treat for you all.”

  “Thank you,” Taliesin said. “Your kindness is greatly appreciated.”

  “My father has often spoken of you, my lord,” Jaelle said, selecting a pear out of a bowl of fruit. “The Shan says you are a just and fair man. What will you do when the Wolf Pack arrives? They have been hunting the Raven Mistress and our party for weeks.”

  “Prince Sertorius warned me of the Wolf Pack’s approach,” the duke said. “I have doubled the guard, but most of my army has boarded the Eagle ships in the harbor, which will leave as soon as Master Xander arrives. He and Prince Sertorius will be going south, to Erindor, and joining the main royal army gathering there. The Wolf Pack will be turned away without seeing the inside of Dunatar Castle. You are quite safe here, I promise.”

  “Where is your wife?” Wren said, feeding Zarnoc grapes. For whatever reason, he had not shown himself to the duke, nor had the duke asked about the wizard traveling in their company. “Will she be joining us at the banquet tonight?”

  “My wife is dead,” Duke de Boron replied, fielding the question without showing any emotions. “We have a daughter who you will meet tonight. Lenora is about your age, and will be filled with questions about the Raven Clan and the Ghajar. I warn you, you will not get in a word edgewise once she gets started. She wants to ask everything and to listen to nothing, especially not to her father. Lenora looks just like her mother. My wife, Denira, was a beautiful woman. Her death has been hard on my daughter as well. One never really gets over the loss
, but as long as we remember the dead as alive, they remain with us.”

  “I look forward to meeting her,” Wren said, sweetly, as she sat on the pillows with her knees pulled to her chin. She was attentive and sincerely impressed with the duke and his hospitality. Zarnoc, meanwhile, had hopped onto a chair and watched everything with sharp, beady eyes.

  “It is my understanding the clans allow their members to choose their own names when they join,” Duke de Boron said. “A very lovely custom. The name ‘Wren’ suits your delicate features. I always wondered what name I’d choose. When I was about your age, I had a particularly annoying cousin who called me ‘Stork,’ on account of my long legs; it is a name I never liked, but among the Raven Clan, it would have suited me, yes?”

  “I think it’s a nice name,” Wren said, laughing. “My brother is called Hawk, my sweetheart Rook, and we had a Quail, a Leech, a Talon, a Plume, and a Grudge at Raven’s Nest. Any name would do, though it was common to pick the name of a bird, if and when it was available.”

  ‘Richelieu is not interested in your clan, only in Ringerike,’ Ysemay warned. Zarnoc seemed to be able to hear the witch’s voice. He jumped onto the table again, walked to stand in front of Taliesin, and glared at the sword. The duke made no comment about the raven, or about the whereabouts of their wizard, which Taliesin found more troubling than her possessed sword. Surely, the duke suspected the raven was more than a bird. He was being careless; any decent magic user could read people’s thoughts, which was one of the reasons the Draconus kings had them rounded up and killed during the Magic Wars. If the duke was lying or bending the truth to suit his purpose, he had to know she’d be informed. She wasn’t prepared for his next question, for if minds were being read, she felt like hers was an open book.

  “I take it you found the Cave of the Snake God and found the Raven King’s sword?” Duke de Boron sipped his glass of wine. “I should very much like to see this sword. Many people have sought it throughout the ages, but none have found it, or even returned to tell their tale. Although the cave is on my lands, I assure you I have no claim on the sword. The jewels in the hilt, they say, are worth a king’s ransom. May I see it?”

  ‘Be careful,’ Ysemay said. ‘Richelieu wants to know who you support, the King, Almaric, or Sertorius. The youngest prince has not made his intentions yet known. No magic user can foretell the future; we only know what has happened in the past and what is happening now. If Zarnoc has told you otherwise, then you cannot trust him either.’

  ‘And you should keep quiet, you old witch,’ Zarnoc replied. ‘I’ll deal with you soon enough. Taliesin, if the prince is in the castle, I am unable to read his thoughts, but I’ll keep trying.’

  Rubbing her temples and unhappy two people were now inside her head, Taliesin sidestepped the duke’s request. “I’ll be glad to show you once Prince Sertorius joins us,” she said, setting aside her glass. “I’m simply exhausted, my lord. My friends would like to freshen up and rest for a while. It’s been a hard journey. We haven’t felt a real pillow beneath our heads in weeks.”

  “Of course. This can wait.” The duke stood and straightened his robe, and the male and female servants came over. “The Ravens need to rest,” he said. “Show the two ladies to their rooms, and I’ll take Taliesin to the west tower, where I think she will enjoy the view from Denira’s room. It’s quieter there, and she’ll hear if anyone approaches.”

  “Should I be worried?” Taliesin said. She picked up the sword and carried it at her side as she came around the chair, avoiding a potted plant with a red flower that spilled out and grew across the floor. She didn’t hear a reply as the duke followed Jaelle and Wren, who were close behind his two servants. Zarnoc flew over and landed on Taliesin’s shoulder as they filed off the veranda, walked through a short hallway, and ascended three flights of stairs to the next level. The two servants led Jaelle and Wren along a hallway that led to an enclosed room with six doors. Taliesin walked behind Duke de Boron, aware he was sweating heavier than before; he was more nervous than when they’d started. Her instincts were right, for when the foursome was out of sight, the duke caught Taliesin by the arm, drew her back along the short hall, opened a door in the wall she’d missed, a secret door, and led her up a narrow flight of stairs.

  “I would speak to you in private, Mistress Taliesin. This stairway leads to my late wife’s chambers. No one uses this staircase but me. We can talk here and not be overheard by servants.” Richelieu closed the door and led the way up the winding staircase. Zarnoc flew ahead, not revealing himself as a wizard. The staircase forced both the duke and Taliesin to duck their heads. “Your coming here places me in a difficult position. I never believed you’d actually find the Raven Sword. My father kept sending men into the desert to find the sword; men who never returned. I learned from his mistakes and have never ordered my knights to find the cave. I never believed anyone would go to the lengths you have to find it.”

  “Let me speak bluntly,” Taliesin said, hearing a door open at the top of the stairs. She had an impression of Zarnoc, standing as a man, peering out the door and letting sunshine and fresh air fill the stairwell. Ysemay remained silent, listening, and the sword lay still in her arms. “Prince Sertorius isn’t here, is he? The prince calls me by my real name, but you’ve not done so, so I assume you don’t know who I really am.”

  The duke paused on the steps and turned to her. “I know you are the Sha’tar, and your arrival has endangered not only me and my daughter, but my entire dukedom. At this very moment, Lord Arundel’s aides, Orell and Ethon, are waiting for Sertorius and Xander to arrive, but they do not know you are here. Those are their ships in the harbor, and they are filled with my soldiers, ready to embark on a voyage.”

  “Lord Arundel wants me and Ringerike,” Taliesin said. “I have no intention of waiting for Xander or boarding one of those ships or letting anyone take the sword from me. This is one civil war I plan to avoid. With your help, I’d like to book passage on a small ship with a trustworthy captain and find some place very quiet to hide. Can you arrange that?”

  They continued to ascend the stairs. She again heard a door open at the top of the stairs, and the sound of the surf mixed with the shrill calls of sea gulls. She knew Zarnoc had turned human to open it, and was impatiently waiting for them. He sent no more messages, so she assumed the wizard was satisfied the duke was being forthcoming.

  “Master Phelon arrived last night with five hundred Wolfmen. I have managed to keep the Wolfmen separate from the Eagles, so far, but I do not know for how long I can continue the deception. If Master Xander and Prince Sertorius don’t arrive, I fear Phelon will attempt to seize control of the castle, and I am concerned for my daughter’s safety. This predicament requires me to petition you and your tiny clan for assistance.”

  “What can we do?” Taliesin asked. “Have your soldiers disembark and reinforce your guards. Arrest Phelon and his pack, and toss them into the dungeon. When I left the cave, I saw Master Xander, Sir Roland of the White Stag, and the Eagle legionnaires facing an army of undead; whether they were victorious or not, I don’t know. You can’t rely on them, my lord. Take matters into your own hands; arrest Phelon, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  “Lenora is in the castle,” the duke said, pausing at the top stair. The wind came through the door and ruffled his hair. “I’ve not had the chance to sneak her out. If I can find a ship, I’d like you to take her with you. She is my only heir and must not be harmed. Master Phelon does not know you have arrived either. Nor have I sent word to the Eagle envoys. I need time to get my daughter out of the castle.” He walked through the door onto a walkway that led to a slender white tower facing the ocean. The duke glanced over the railing, crossed the walkway, opened the door to the tower, and, in a conspiratorial fashion, motioned for her to follow. “Hurry. I don’t want anyone to see us. You will be safe in this tower. Come.”

  Taliesin hurried across the walkway as Zarnoc flew into the room, followe
d by the duke and Taliesin, who caught her breath as she entered the circular room. It was a large chamber, with a vaulted ceiling supported by heavy wooden beams, large windows with stained glass and gold drapes, and a four-poster bed with ornate carving. A wooden tub shaped as the skull of a dragon was near a window. The tub was lined with gold to hold water, and the sides were engraved with aquatic creatures. The bed was free of dust and covered with green velvet drapes. A vanity with a round mirror held a vase of fresh flowers, an open box of jewelry, and a hairbrush that had strands of dark brown hair.

  “No one has used this room since my wife died,” Richelieu de Boron said, moving to stand in front of the mirror. “The west tower was her favorite. Denira was the daughter of Duke Hrothgar of Fregia. I know he and his brother were killed by Prince Sertorius. Now you know why I am in such a difficult position; I must do the right thing by her.”

  Taliesin placed Ringerike upon the bed. Zarnoc flew over, landed on the coverlet, and picked at the cloak wrapped around the sword. Taliesin could hear the wizard and witch yelling at each other in the back of her mind, but she refused to be party to the argument. She turned, sat on the bed, marveling at how soft it felt, and watched the duke gently grasp the hairbrush.

  “Denira was a beautiful and wise woman,” Richelieu said, his voice finally reflecting his heavy grief. “It has been difficult to rule these last five years without her at my side. My wife had an uncanny ability to tell if someone was telling the truth simply by looking at them. Her insight was invaluable to me.”