The Wizard from Earth

by S. J. Ryan

  He gazed back stonily. "The Leaf? Isn't that the gang of hooligans who justify their highway robbery by pretending to lead a secret war against Roman rule? I have nothing to do with those murderous traitors.”

  She leaned forward and whispered, "Uncle, this is a matter relevant to the Leaf, but if someone is listening, give me a signal and I'll leave now."

  "No one is listening," he said in a normal voice. Then as innocuously as could be, he added, "So what makes you think that I am a member of the Leaf?"

  "Being myself a member of the Leaf for two years now, I saw that the Northland cells are receiving information on the movements of the Romans that is very accurate. The information must be coming from someone who speaks to the Romans and observes them daily, and who is based in the provincial capital, and who is a merchant whose wares travel into the countryside so that he may dispatch along secret messages."

  "Your general description could apply to a score of other merchants in this town. Why do you suspect me in particular?"

  "Do you remember the day my father came here with me?"

  His face darkened. "I couldn't forget if I tried."

  "Because you worked so closely with the Romans, he accused you of being a traitor. I saw how pained your face was, Uncle. Yet you did not deny his accusations. If you were pained, then why did you not refute him? If his accusations were true, then why would you care enough to show pain? I knew then that you were wearing a mask."

  Ral paused, then said, "There are many reasons to wear a mask other than being a spy. I suspect there is more to your suspicion than that one incident. Would it happen that your cat's ears eavesdropped on a confidential conversation among the Northern Leaf leaders, in which my name might have been mentioned? Or did your cat's nose detect my scent on some of the weapons and supplies received in the north?"

  “I wish you wouldn't compare me to an animal, Uncle. It was funny when I was a child, but – “

  “I understand. I think your tea is cooled now.”

  Thus prompted, she took a deep sip. He had added apple cider vinegar and honey, the way she had liked it as a child. Perhaps, if he so cared for her, he would heed her request.

  He continued, "The reason I compared you to an animal when you were a child is because you would rankle if I openly referred to your talents. You get that from your mother. Keep your talents hidden, she was always telling you. She thought she was protecting you, I know, but she was keeping you from your potential."

  "You're avoiding the subject," she said. “As soon as you admit you're of the Leaf, I can discuss Leaf business with you.”

  He hobbled to the stove and replaced the pot over the flame. "All right, no use pretending with you, yes, I am in the Leaf. And so what does that have to do with why you are here?"

  "Geth has been captured."

  "What?"

  She told how she and Geth and Croin had joined the Army of the Queen's Rebellion, and how they had been sent to the Westlands beyond the Dark Forest, and how they had met the army on the way back and how all had been chaos from the landing of the fireball in their midst. She left out mention of the Wizard, because she didn't think it was important or relevant.

  "And then Romans were everywhere, and I lost sight of Geth and the others and they weren't at the rendezvous point and I've searched the Lowlands for days. I'm sure they were taken prisoner."

  "Poor Geth. He is my friend and was like a father to you. You know, it was Geth who retrieved your bodies from the river bank. He buried your mother and almost buried you, and when he saw that you were still alive he cared you back to health. In the meanwhile, my brother would not so much as look."

  She closed her eyes and bowed her head. "Uncle, no more of my father." She raised her head and opened her eyes. "I came to plead for the Leaf's aid in saving Geth and Croin, and the other two men who were taken prisoner from my squad."

  "Carrot, I have great confidence in your talents, but even with a hundred of our best operatives you can't fight your way through the whole of the Empire in search of particular prisoners of war, and then fight your way out in order to rescue them."

  "I wasn't thinking of force and I wasn't asking that anyone else to take risk. My plan is that I will go by myself to the slave markets of Rome, find Geth and the others, and purchase their freedom.”

  “Yes, I see, of course, as prisoners of war they would likely become slaves. But Carrot, do you even have the funds to – oh, I see now why you've come to me.”

  “Uncle, they fought for the freedom of Britan, shouldn't Britan pay them the same obligation? As we are both members of the Leaf, I know how deeply you care about your fellow warriors."

  Ral made a small smile. "Forgive me another mention, but how a certain person would twist, to hear you refer to his brother the tailor as a warrior!"

  "But you are. Better than Boudica."

  "That is no compliment, girl. You haven't heard, have you? Rumors are she was an agent of Rome, leading our army into a trap."

  "I would believe that." She didn't want to mention her hysteria while in proximity to Boudica. It still made no sense.

  Ral was eying her as elder relatives often do toward younger ones who come to visit out of the blue.

  “Back to your business. So it is that you've come for money.”

  She looked at the floor. "To bid in the slave auctions of Rome, yes. I know the Leaf has funds, and as someone in such a prominent position within the Leaf you must have access to them."

  “Prominent position? I'm just a humble tailor who writes down the daily gossip and passes it on.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  He sighed. “I suspect we must, among your other talents, add some dash of mind reading. But Carrot, the Inner Circle is going to ask why we should spend funds on these men, when so many thousands have been taken prisoner.”

  “Uncle, it's Geth. That's why. That's all the reason there needs to be, wouldn't you agree?”

  He sighed again. Without further comment, he dragged a bookcase away from a wall and lifted a plank underneath. He presented her with a bag that clinked musically as he jiggled it.

  "I'll catch hell for giving you this much of organization funds without a committee vote, but as you say, it's Geth. I'll argue that he's of great symbolic value to the Leaf, if nothing else. People in Umbrick still remember that as your father's chief lieutenant, he was the one who managed village affairs day to day."

  She opened the bag and gasped. "Oh thank you, Uncle!"

  "Now, the coinage I have given you will be enough for your journey and to purchase the freedom of all four of your people – but only if you bargain. Here are some basic tips. Never believe a Roman when he says that's his final price. The more he takes insult at the lowness of your offer, the more likely you've overbid. If he walks away in anger, he'll be back and then the real bidding may begin. I could spend a day telling all I've learned about Roman business practices while tending this shop, but you get the idea."

  "If Roman commerce is anything like Roman warfare, then I know what to expect."

  He wobbled his cane in response. "I'd go with you, but I'd be in the way. I know you can take care of yourself – but be careful. Rome has a dagger in every sleeve, poison in every cup, cunning in every kindness. Those are lyrics from one of their drinking songs, so the warnings must be true."

  "I will be careful, Uncle."

  He smiled. "Perhaps I worry too much. In truth, we seem to have had good fortune of late. The army would have been destroyed had that fireball not come at the right time and place – and now also the Plague seems to have run its course."

  "It has?"

  "As you inferred, I have my communication system. There hasn't been report of a death in days and those who were sick are fully recovered. So Britan's curse has been lifted. Let's hope your quest meets with good fortune as well."

  "We make our own luck," Carrot said unsmilingly.

  "We somewhat do, but also much luck is handed to us. May the best l
uck be handed to you, Carrot. You deserve the best because of all you've been through, but also because of the fine person that you've always been."

  He watched her spill the tea, and when she didn't comment, he said, "You still blame yourself, don't you?"

  She had no memories of that day, but she had memories of a thousand haranguings. "My father said I was too strong willed for my mother, that I pushed her into going to the river that day to gather flowers, that if I been obedient – "

  "Carrot!" Ral slammed the table. "I am so tired of hearing this! You had nothing to do with her death! And because of his own foolhardiness in leading a futile uprising, your father is dead! He's two years in the grave, you need to stop respecting his drunken rantings! "

  "He is worthy of my respect, as king and father."

  "You're in Londa now. We don't hold rigidly to tradition, we dare to make use of common sense! Carrot, Letos was king only because your grandfather was king, and your grandfather was king because he murdered the king before him. Fine lineage, our family has! As for the historical accident of his being your father, I am half convinced he married your mother on whim, only because I was courting Prisca first and he wanted to spite me. It surely didn't stop him from bedding other women. And once they were married, she became the target of his spite as well. Impulse and spite – he did everything from impulse and spite! I know, because I lived in his shadow for years, and so did you.”

  Breathlessly, she slowly emitted, "He was a great man and the villages respected him."

  “He is dead and the villages are in ashes. Good reason to question whether Northlanders are the excellent judges of character they presume to be.”

  She held back tears. "He was a good man! He loved me!"

  "Love? Was it love when he shunned you for a year after the attack because your face and body were so horribly scarred? Was it love when he treated you like a Roman does toward a slave and yelled 'What good are you?' when you so much as dropped a plate?"

  "It was treatment I deserved. I was too strong-willed. I insisted that my mother come to the river with me to pick flowers – "

  "Carrot, stop with that! What man of discernment would blame a child for what happened? Carrot, what attacked you and your mother was lying in wait. Had you remained in your hut that day, it would have come into the village and slain anyone in its path, until it did what it did."

  "You always say that. But I don't remember the moment and you weren't there."

  "Carrot, what I do know is that we share this planet with terrible beings."

  "That is only myth. Like mentors and the Box."

  "If you only knew! Why the other day, on the roof of the imperial residence – and then also, all the whispers recently about the Sisters of Wisdom! But never mind, you won't believe any of that either. Suffice to say there are no wild beasts in North Umbrick then or now which could have attacked as viciously. If you wish to deal only with facts and reason, then reason from those facts."

  Carrot said nothing as she sobbed. Ral sighed and handed her a towel.

  "Now I have been a monster too," he said calmly, patting her shoulder. "I'm angry at my brother who has been dead two years, and you are his greatest victim yet are the one I yell at now. We haven't seen each other in years, and all this shouting is how you'll remember me."

  A smile glimmered. "I'll remember that you helped Geth and I. And I have never forgotten how you've always been there when I've needed you. That's why I came, Uncle. I knew you would help."

  Light was dimming through the curtains, and they hurried to finalize preparations. Ral gave her clothing, directions, and practical advice for travelers

  "Now, if there are problems, send me a letter. Let me show you the new stegacipher I drew the other day, you and I shall be the only ones to use it and that should keep the Roman snoops in the dark."

  From an even more secretive place, he produced a complex chart in tiny handwriting. She accepted the sheet, scanned for a moment, handed it back.

  He smiled sheepishly. "Already memorized? I've always thought that clever mind is your brightest talent! You know, Carrot, Britan needs someone smart to rule, and now that Boudica has retired as queen, perhaps you should apply." He laughed. "Queen Carrot – at least the rabbits will follow!"

  Despite herself, she could not suppress a giggle. “Queen of the Rabbits – was that your plan all along in giving me the nickname?”

  “To be truth, it is indeed about more than the color of your hair. As a very young child, you insisted on mispronouncing the name as 'Carrot,' but what I named you then was actually, 'Caratacus.'”

  “And the significance of that is?”

  His smile faded somewhat. “According to the mentors, on Aereoth in ancient times, a warrior named Caratacus fought the Romans . . . but I am not sure whether it is only history, or also prophecy.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it is both. Perhaps the Hand of Fate intends that the history of Ne'arth is to echo the history of Aereoth. Rome and Britan both there and here, the most obvious example. Then take Boudica. She is mentioned in the Annals of Aereoth, and yet here she is on Ne'arth as well.”

  Carrot paused, forming her words carefully, because she knew how reverential her uncle was toward the mentors and their Annals. But she steeled herself and said:

  “I don't see any Hand of Fate with Boudica, only the hands of Romans, who gave the name to their agent because they knew it would appeal to those who believe in the mentors and their histories. Uncle, they used our own myths to mislead us. The lesson of Boudica is that we should stop trying to relive the history of Aereoth, and go our own way.”

  He made a deep nod. “Perhaps, but then I wonder if that will be better.”

  “It may not be better, but it will be our own way, and being free to choose our way is what makes our lives worth living. Isn't that why we are both fighters for Britan?”

  He broke into laughter and shook his head. “The words you say, coming from one so young!”

  Then the tears were back when they hugged and said farewells, Carrot wondering if she would ever see him again.

  As she wandered the shadow-dappled streets of Londa that evening, she remembered her uncle's comments about the end of the Plague, and it brought thoughts, of all things, about the Wizard.

  She'd convinced herself that wishful thinking had subconsciously triggered her own healing powers when the Wizard had touched her arm. And now, if the Plague was truly spent, he would be unable to promote his 'cure' this side of the Dark Forest, and so perhaps he had returned to the simpler, more impressionable folk of the Western lands.

  Good riddance to the charlatan, she thought, but she also found herself missing him. Sometimes he had seemed to her as such a child, other times as if he truly had fallen from the stars. She found in him a sunlit aspect, as if he believed all problems could be solved.

  “The nonsense!” she said to herself. “Curing the Plague with a handshake!”

  She admitted it was strange, though, that the Plague had ended around that same time. At any rate, she concluded it was just as well that he was out of harm's way – and hers.

  She put further thought about the Wizard out of mind until some time after sunset, when while waiting dockside to speak with a captain whose ship she'd heard was bound for Rome, a flash of familiar blue under torchlight caught her eye. A Roman soldier was wearing the Wizard's garment and making odd but familiar pointing gestures to the chuckles of his two comrades.

  A little flirting got herself invited to a tavern. For Carrot's metabolism, alcohol was no more inebriating than water, and she easily out-drank the trio. Then, tactfully, she inquired as to the fate of the strange clothing's previous owner.

  "Off to Palras!" the wearer slurred.

  "Pardon, but what is that?" Carrot asked.

  "The worst place in the Empire! In all the world!"

  "A prison colony on a forsaken island," the second said. "A slave mine. They work them to death on purpose. Life is short there."

  "I
t produces silver for the Emperor's treasury," the third said. "So it's guarded better than the Bay of Rome. No one ever escapes. No one ever returns."

  They stared somberly at nothing, then toasted, "Hadron!" and downed their mugs.

  Carrot muttered into her beer, "Hog-dung," and diplomatically drank as well.

  Poor Wizard, she thought. Healer or hoaxer, he was beyond help now. She decided it would be best to think no more about him, and so from then on she didn't. At least not consciously.

  22.

  Matt felt warm, fuzzy, and detached. He assumed he was dreaming.

  The scene was in a large tent. It was night and the only illumination came from a trickle of light pouring in from a flickering torch outside.

  In his dreamlike state, Matt himself seemed to be hovering over a body sprawled on the dirt. The body was that of a young man wearing underwear and nothing more. The face looked very familiar, except that it was wet and ashen and bloodied. The eyes were closed and the mouth open, the tongue swollen.

  Several men in tattered grimy clothing were gathered around the body, squatting at a distance. They were speaking softly.

  "Is he dead?"

  "Getting there."

  "So we'll sleep tonight with a corpse."

  "You haven't been here long, if you think that's rare."

  "I think he's stopped breathing."

  "I don't see his chest moving."

  Overcoming revulsion, one man extended his hand to the still figure's nostrils. "No breath." An ear was pressed to the chest. "No heartbeat."

  Others tried it too.

  "Nope, nothing."

  "He's gone."

  "A sad end. He rescues a child and that is his reward."

  "Why are they so late bringing the food?"

  "They punish everyone even when only one prisoner breaks the rules."

  "He had no business having his punishment inflicted on us! Selfish fool!"

  The voices became faint and the scene faded into darkness. Matt sensed that he was moving rapidly away. There was no upward or downward, just forward. Faster and faster . . .

  Ahead was a star. It grew into a circle of bright light. Matt grasped that he was in a tunnel and the light was the opening. He burst through.