"We had better keep an eye on him," Zhimosom said. He bid his farewell to Rotiaqua and dropped their connection.
A few days past as Zhimosom recovered. He worried that soon he would need to support himself and decided to seek work at the stables in the castle. The stable master was a rough man who had a ruddy complexion and towered over the rest of his staff. He rose from his stool and limped into the doorway when he saw Zhimosom approach.
"We don't need any help." He held up his hand.
"Sir, my family was burned out of our farm. I only seek work to feed myself. I don't eat much and I am accustomed to hard labor."
"Look around you. The whole city is flooded with refugees. Folks come flocking here when things get tough out there and expect us hard working folk to take 'em in and feed 'em."
Zhimosom made his arguments. "I can clean stalls. I can carry hay. I can fetch water for the horses. I don't mind hard work."
The stable master reached behind his stool and brought out a whip. It was long and sturdy looking and had strands of leather tipped with iron barbs. He shook it at Zhimosom. "I said we don't have any work. Be gone."
Zhimosom hung his head and turned back to the inn he would have to vacate all too soon. What was he going to do for food and shelter once Rotiaqua's charity ran out?
He scoured the town looking for work, but the answer was much the same everywhere. The town was choked with refugees, able bodied men and women who had been forced off their farms by the war.
That night, as he sat by the fire, he was consumed with his misfortune. Zheet dead, the farm nothing but ashes, his brothers dead in the war, and even the distant memory of losing his mother; it all seemed so overwhelming. He was totally and utterly alone.
The flames danced on the logs, licking them with their consuming tongues. Zhimosom stared at the glowing embers, so much like his own life. They would soon turn to ash and be swept out with the morning's refuse.
"Why so sad?" came the voice in his head.
"I have nothing. No hope. I can't even find work to keep myself fed. I don't know what I'm going to do." Zhimosom focused his eyes on the image of Rotiaqua that had appeared in the fire.
"Surely a strong lad like yourself could find work. The stables are always in need of help."
"I tried there. The stable master sent me away." Zhimosom shook his head. "He said there were too many refugees in the city and that everyone is looking for work."
She frowned at him. "Try again tomorrow. After the noon meal. Give me a little time to arrange matters."
"But he said they don't need help."
She winked at him. "They will tomorrow."
"But he said there were plenty of people seeking work."
"Tomorrow he will need you. Go there after the noon meal and tell him Rotiaqua sent you to him. I am sure he will have work for you."
Zhimosom was skeptical, but he agreed to try. What would the stable master do to him for returning after he'd been told to leave? He shuddered at the memory of the whip.
"What about Brill? Have you heard anything?" Zhimosom was still worried about the girl he'd vowed to protect. If they were going to take his hand off for letting her escape into the market, what would they do to her? Had she been caught, or had she found her aunt as she'd hoped?
"Brill?"
"The girl I came here with, remember? She ran off into the market. That's why they thought I was a thief."
"Sounds to me like she got you into a lot of trouble. Why are you worried about her?" Rotiaqua waved her hand in dismissal.
"I promised her I would take care of her. She's an orphan. He parents were killed along with my pa. I said I'd look out for her and I've lost her."
"I haven't heard anything. I can have my maids keep an eye out for her."
"Thank you for your help. You didn't have to do that."
Rotiaqua leaned forward until her image separated from the fire. She looked sternly at Zhimosom. "You are my friend. Friends help each other."
"Thank you for your kindness. I am growing ever deeper in your debt."
Rotiaqua smiled at him. "No debt is owed among friends. Good night."
With that, Zhimosom let the connection drop and retired for the evening.
The next day, Zhimosom was given work in the stables, although it was the most menial and back-breaking of tasks. He didn't mind. He had worked hard on the farm. He was used to it.
The stable master put him to work caring for the horses and preparing them when the castle folk needed to go riding. He groomed the horses, fed them, and got to know each of them by name and temperament. He found a small room not far from the livery that he rented from a couple with so many children that he never learned all their names. The woman called each child by a different name seemingly every day.
Zhimosom was satisfied with his job at the stables. He missed Zheet and the farm, but his work in the stables was enough to keep him fed. It even afforded him some free time, which he had never had on the farm, but the owner of the house was quick to assign him chores if he looked to be idle.
Everything would have been perfect, except for the nagging worry that Zhimosom had about Brill. He asked around and searched for her in the market, but no one had seen her. One woman said a girl matching Brill's description fetched water on occasion, but Zhimosom was unable to find her. He had let her down and he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad had happened to her.
Priest
Rotiaqua arrived for breakfast with her father as she had been ordered. It was later than usual, which was convenient for her, as her evenings with Zhimosom had been keeping her up late. The extra sleep had felt good.
"The campaign goes well," the Baron said. "The Priest is back and wishes to see me today. I would like you to witness what a Wizard Priest can do for the Barony. I think it will be educational. And, you'll need to learn how to deal with him."
"Really, Father. What has he done beside throw a few fireballs at the King's troops?"
"He's saved me a fortune in men and Golds. He's stopped the King's attacks on my small folk and has helped me avoid fielding an army during harvest season."
"What's he asking for this time?" Rotiaqua cared little for this Priest. She and Zhimosom had been watching him when the occasion presented itself. More and more frequently, he vanished from their sight, almost as if he was shielded from their magic. They were less often able to tell what he was doing.
"I don't know, but he wants something. Doesn't everyone?" The Baron rose from his seat and extended his arm to escort her to the audience chamber.
Sulrad was the first petitioner to be admitted to the audience chamber that morning. Rotiaqua still had difficulty thinking of him as a Priest. He had been just a Wizard when he first arrived, but with her father's blessing, the man had taken the affectations of the Priest of Ran. He wore long black robes trimmed in gold that must have been uncomfortable on warm days. When summer came, he would roast inside them. Rotiaqua chuckled to herself at the thought.
Sulrad raised his head and looked at her. "My Lady?"
"Nothing." Rotiaqua quickly set her face into a more serious cast.
"Your Lordship knows I have fulfilled my task of keeping the King's army at bay, I have stopped the destruction of his towns and small folk." Sulrad bowed his head and paused.
When no response came, Sulrad continued. "I believe I have demonstrated to your satisfaction that I can continue to support the Barony in this manner. Have I not?"
"You have," the Baron said. "I presume you are here seeking a reward for your service?"
"Just a small token of your gratitude, My Lord."
"I see. You're to be at my treasury every time you complete a task. Is that the way of it?"
"No, My Lord. I seek only just recompense for my labors on your behalf. Nothing more." Sulrad bowed his head deeper as he spoke.
"Out with it! What is it you wish this time?"
"I would pray your indulgence in granting me the land to build a Temple
to the glory of Ran, in order to honor his deeds. It is he that has saved you, not I." He paused again.
"If you would be so gracious as to honor Ran by providing financial aid in the construction of the Temple, I am certain that he will continue to look upon your lands and people with favor."
"You believe that, do you?" The Baron asked.
Rotiaqua heard the skepticism in her father's voice. Maybe he wasn't fully in agreement with the Priest after all. She smiled to herself, hoping Sulrad said something that would end the audience.
"I assure you, My Lord. Ran is powerful ... and generous." He kept his head bowed as he spoke, grasping his staff for support.
Rotiaqua didn't like the way the conversation was turning. She knew her father looked for any opportunity to fill the treasury. Was the Priest asking for Golds or was he trying to bribe the Baron?
"So you say. How generous?" The Baron asked.
"Such matters are best not spoken of in public, My Lord. Perhaps we could retire to a more private setting?"
The Baron laughed. "You do have courage, I'll grant you that. Come back this evening. You will dine with us, and I will hear what you have to say then."
"Yes, My Lord."
Rotiaqua's heart sank as the Priest backed out of the audience chamber bowing deeply as he went.
That evening, Sulrad joined them at the table. Rotiaqua had tried to get out of the meal, but the Baron insisted that she be in attendance. It would be a small affair with just the Baron, the Baroness, Rotiaqua and the Priest in attendance.
Sulrad arrived early and was waiting when they entered the dining room. He stood beside the table in his black robe with his shaved head. Rotiaqua wondered if he ever ate, he was so thin and gaunt.
She felt his magic as she entered the room and it made her shudder. She didn't know why, but it felt corrupt and evil. She fought back the urge to run from the room as the feeling of dread washed over her. She looked at her father; surely he must sense something, but the Baron calmly took his seat and motioned to the Priest to do likewise.
The servants quickly loaded the table with roast pork and vegetables. They brought wine and fruit from the gardens and enough bread to feed an army.
Rotiaqua watched as Sulrad piled his plate. He disproved her idea that he never ate, or ate sparingly. She wondered why he was so thin and gaunt looking with an appetite such as he exhibited.
"With a proper Temple to glorify him, Ran will attract followers from the top tier of society," Sulrad explained. "Nobles and merchants will flock to the Temple to pay him honor and worship. When this happens, a part of the Temple receipts will be placed under your care. We have only limited needs beyond the glorification of Ran.
"Ran bestows his blessings on the faithful. The more faithful ... the greater his blessings," the Priest said in a thick syrupy voice. He winked at the Baron.
"Just how much blessing do you think your god will bestow on us?" the Baron asked.
"I would think that Ran could see his way to pay a tribute of ... say ... one fifth of all offerings. That is once the Temple is completed."
The Baron raised his cup to the serving girl who rushed over to fill it with wine. He took a drink and held the cup out before him, examining it as if in thought, then looked back up at Sulrad. "How about one half of all receipts until you have paid for the land I will grant you. After that debt has been settled, then one part in four. Would your god be that generous?"
Sulrad looked down at the table. Rotiaqua thought she caught a flash of anger in his eyes that he quickly suppressed.
"That may depend on the quality of the land that is granted," Sulrad said. "A sufficiently large parcel of land near the castle will draw the wealthy merchants and the nobles. Land farther away from the castle or smaller in size will draw a less affluent following."
The Baron laughed. "I may already have found a suitable plot of land for you. It just so happens that I have a merchant who has been causing me problems. I have had my eye on him and his house for some time, but just never had enough reason to do anything about him.
"His factorage is near the castle, right off the main road. He trades in lumber. I could make his holdings available to you, should anything happen to him. That would provide you with both the land, and the lumber necessary to build your Temple."
"That would be most acceptable, Sire."
"Maybe you can arrange for this merchant to have an unfortunate accident. He and his son. With no male heir, the land and factorage would come under my care."
"It would indeed be most unfortunate if something happened to them," Sulrad said with a sarcastic smile. "Are there any other family members?"
"He has a wife and a young daughter." The Baron waved it off as if it were nothing of consequence.
"The Temple would be in need of servants, cooks, washing women ... and the like. Perhaps we could find a place for them, so that they would have a protector.
"It would be such a shame to see a good woman and her daughter put out on the street as a result of a tragic accident. I'm certain the Temple will be able to find a suitable place for them."
Rotiaqua glared at her father. How could he deal so casually with his own subjects? She knew he took pleasure in the misfortune of others, but this seemed a little more callous than usual.
The Baron ignored her look and stood, signaling the end of the meal. Rotiaqua prepared herself for a curt discussion with her father, but before she could begin, the Priest stood and bowed deeply.
"Please, Sire, one more thing if I may?"
"Yes, what is it?" the Baron asked.
"The Temple will need acolytes. More Priests to help carry out its benevolent mission to heal the sick and care for the people. I would ask that, if there are any Wizards found in your realm, you would send them to the Temple for training."
"For training?"
"Yes, for training ... and for service. We can't have Wizards running around the countryside performing magic on their own. The Temple will see to it that they are properly trained and that their labors benefit the Temple and the Barony."
"Fine. If I hear of any, I'll send them to you." The Baron turned to leave, but Sulrad cleared his throat.
"Is there more?"
"Only one small favor ..." Sulrad paused.
"What is this small favor?"
"That the Temple be allowed to seek out the young Wizards and gather them in. I would ask for a letter from you stating that the Temple is allowed to examine young boys who show promise, and enroll those who do into the Temple for training."
"Hunt down young Wizards?" The Baron laughed and turned his back. "Go ahead. You have my permission."
Rotiaqua sat there looking at her father's back as he walked from the room. She could not believe how easily he had granted this Priest permission to seek out and capture young Wizards, or how callous he was about the merchant and his family.
She was certain that Sulrad was up to something, asking to hunt down Wizards. She had to warn Zhimosom. It could be dangerous with Sulrad searching for people like him.
Sulrad waited until the Baron had left before he stood himself. Rotiaqua could have sworn he was humming contentedly as he strolled out of the door.
Rotiaqua lit the candle that would help her connect with Zhimosom and opened her mind to him. It was becoming routine. She felt his presence as a light touch that stayed with her even when they were not in direct contact. She knew that soon, they would no longer need the fire to transport them to each other.
Zhimosom was asleep when she contacted him. His image became clear as he slowly woke and focused his thoughts.
"Sulrad has been granted the rights to seek out and capture any Wizards he finds."
"What?" Zhimosom looked at her sleepily.
"Sulrad was here today. He asked father for permission to seek out Wizards around the realm and bring them to the Temple for training. You have to be careful."
"I am careful. I don't do magic unless we're working together."
/> Rotiaqua was worried not only about Zhimosom, but also herself. If Sulrad had a way to detect Wizards, they were both in danger. "We should keep an eye on him."
"Won't that just expose us to him?"
"I don't think so. I used to watch people all the time in the fire. They never noticed anything." Rotiaqua recalled how she used to cast about in search of companionship. Before she met Zhimosom.
"What about me?"
"You're special. You were searching, too, weren't you?" Rotiaqua smiled at Zhimosom. He was such a shy boy, but he had been searching, that's why he was open to her connection.
"I was."
"There you go. Unless he is searching for us, we should be safe."
Rotiaqua reached out and joined her magic to Zhimosom's. Together, they searched for Sulrad. They found him fast asleep in the inn where he was staying.
"He doesn't look dangerous," Zhimosom said.
"He is. I saw him take out several of the King's men. He threw fireballs at them and they flashed into dust and blew away, just like that. And we both saw what he did with the rabbit."
Rotiaqua bid Zhimosom a good evening and tried to get some sleep, but the way her father had just handed the factor and his family to Sulrad nagged at her. She hated that side of the Baron; the uncaring side that took pleasure in torturing anyone he thought had wronged him. She tried to think of a way to save the family or warn them, but nothing came to mind.
Several days later, when Rotiaqua heard that a rich businessman and his son had died in a freak accident, she was overcome with guilt. She had not been able to save that family, but she would find a way to stop Sulrad.
Station
One day Zhimosom was asked to prepare the horses for the Baroness. Several of the stable hands were out with stomach sickness. Zhimosom was one of the few healthy enough to work and was currently handling the work of two. He was directed to a storage area where the best tack was kept. The saddles were exquisitely made, trimmed in the finest of leather and gold fittings, not the type he usually worked with.
Wizard Pair (Book 3) Page 7