Still blindfolded, the hermit rises, starts to sniff Jocomund, and asks, “Is that you, Squirrel Boy?”
“Yes, it is, sir. Are you okay?”
“I do not know. I have been feeling very strange, even for me. There are bizarre, precarious doin’s in this land.”
He turns to Mikal and removes his blindfold. His bushy eyebrows lower, attempting to blink, but his eyes are already closed. He puts his face uncomfortably close to Mikal's chest then his equally hairy nose slowly rises to Mikal’s chin. Mikal feels what he hopes is a slight mystic shock.
The hermit asks, “Is that you, Mikal Novastar? Beware! The first menace has risen! Beware!” He lifts his left leg and shakes it all about.
“Know that the one you choose must lose before he has a chance to win.”
A rancid burp fouls the air. “Or is that you, Melchior Brightstar?”
The hairy one waves his right arm in a large circle and emits a strange, high-pitched sound.
“The real danger is yet to awake. You cannot win against the evil, ebony one but I know you will try. Danger for all! You're from the city of Addis, are you not? If you lose, I will weep for you and for everyone. Will anyone weep for me?”
He backs away, points his head high, and howls. He suddenly stops and falls to the ground while his whole body twitches about franticly. The three can only stare in stunned amazement.
Jocomund says, “This is just how he looked just before he told me to collect my friends and wait in the tree for the sound of the pipes before helping you.”
Ultimately, the Mad Plunket stops moving. He rolls over on his side and falls fast asleep.
Jocomund approaches the hermit, gently pokes him, and asks again, “Are you okay?”
“Go, leave me be,” the hermit groggily grumbles.
“But, sir, you are in the middle of a forest!”
“So… can you think of a better place to take a nap?”
Jocomund whispers, “I will weep for you.”
***
Mikal makes tea and waits with Jocomund. Just before noon, the hairy hermit sits up and looks around.
He asks, “What are you doing here?”
He then quickly stands and haphazardly skips off into the woods.
Mikal and Jocomund cannot help but chuckle.
“Well, Jocomund, we best be on our way.”
The three walk and talk for the next hour or so. At length, the Squirrel Master wishes Mikal and Majam good luck and takes a different path and fades from view.
Chapter 5
The warrior rides his well experienced mount. His leather armor is worn, but it fits well. His leather boots are not new and a dented shield is strapped to his back and a long sword to his side. His head bobbles along with the horse’s stride. He looks neither to one side nor the other. A second rider, dressed in fine clothes, wears multiple rings, one with a house crest engraved in it, follows the first. Next to him an older gentleman rides, taking in the many sites of the day. The well-dressed rider spots a tall, redheaded person standing by the side of the road. This man is holding a long walking staff. As the riders pass, one notices a distinct white streak of hair, which he finds odd. The man’s eyes are downcast. The expensively dressed man quips, “I see some people know their place.”
The trio continues down the road.
“Well, Majam, we must be getting closer. This is the second group we have seen today. We best be moving along…is something wrong?”
The large, white cat stands at attention and looks intently into the woods. Mikal enters the familiar’s mind.
“What do you see, my friend?”
There are people hiding in the forest. I think they are afraid of us.
“I find it difficult to believe that anyone would fear us. Let us investigate.”
Warily Mikal moves ahead.
“Come out. We will not harm you. In fact we are here to offer support. Is there anything we can do?
Guardedly, a middle-aged women stands tall but is still partially concealed by a maple tree.
Majam conveys that there are many more hidden. Mostly young.
“My name is Melchior Brightstar. Is there anything that I can do for you?”
Mikal tentatively moves closer. The woman stares uneasily at Mikal, unsure of what to do.
“Be not afraid. What is your name?”
“Beecher,” she says weakly, avoiding Mikal’s gaze.
Mikal can finally make out some of her features. She looks ragged. Heavy, deep lines are etched under her eyes, which are wide and dart everywhere. A young female child appears and hugs her just below the waist. The girl also looks anxious, and appears that she has not slept for days.
“Lady Beecher, I passed a stream a short distance from here. Let us go and drink from it. I shall share what food I have.”
Mikal does not know why, but adds, “No harm will come to you or your company. Please, follow me.”
Slowly, one by one, a number of people appear and warily follow Mikal. He strides purposefully toward the small stream. The group tries to keep pace. Eventually, they surround Mikal and look toward him as if awaiting further instructions.
“Please, drink.”
They do not. Mikal pauses, bends down, cups his hands, and drinks from the babbling creek. Gradually, the fearful group follows Mikal’s example and drinks its fill. Mikal then picks some berries and offers them to the group, but none partake. Mikal eats the fruit and expresses how flavorsome and delicious they are. Hesitantly, they eat what is offered them. Mikal notes that none pick the berries from the tree and questions, “Are you that fearful?”
One of the older women steps into an opening in the canopy where bright sunlight shines directly upon her. Even without the help of Majam’s site, Mikal can discern the woman's outline. Then a curious thing happens. The whites of Mikal’s eyes start to swirl. He looks closer at the woman and perceives a dim, dusty mist inside her.
“I wonder… am I actually seeing fear?”
He looks over his charges. Most are hidden in shade, but when he focuses on one of them and concentrates, he can still sense the dusty cloud inside.
“Lady Beecher, what has happened here? When is the last time you have slept?”
“No one has slept for days. A few nights ago the alarm sounded in our village. We snatched up the children and hid. Then a feeling of great dread overcame us and we ran. We do not know what happened, but we fear we can never go back.”
A young boy steps forth.
“I know what happened. My cousin told me. He's older than me. The men in the village felt a trouble. They were supposed to go out and face it, but only one did: Thorren, our strongest woodsman. He had his double-bladed ax with him. He stood in the main road, my cousin said. Then this large, shiny, black stallion showed up. On it, he said, a nasty, armored man sat in the saddle. The man glowed black, not white, my cousin said. Thorren never raised his ax, but fell to the ground. His chest was torn open, my cousin said. Something came out of it. He didn't know what it was. He then told me his eyes hurt and he didn't feel very good. He fell to the ground, too. I yelled at him to run, but he didn’t move. I shoved him, but he didn’t move. So I ran and caught up with the others.” The child ends his tale with tears in his eyes in a quivering, small voice.
Mikal shakes his head and stands before them.
“We will stay here for the night. All of you must sleep. The sun is setting and I will do all I can to protect you.”
Mikal starts to collect wood for a fire but only a few help and even those bring very little.
“Please, sit in a circle around the fire and watch.”
They comply, but are ill at ease. Mikal steps out from the ring. He lowers his staff of light to the ground and, after uttering a few arcane words, the staff starts to glow with a soothing, white light. He begins to walk around in a circle dragging the staff, which leaves a phosphorus line behind. When he completes the circumference, the group finds itself surrounded by a soft, white lumi
nosity. Mikal brews a seductive tea in a kettle over the fire and has everyone partake. He then tells a simple, entertaining story using a soothing, hypnotic voice. He instructs everyone to clasp each other’s hands and to trust him and one another. They must overcome their dread. He casts a sleep spell over the group. The last thing they hear is, “Let not your hearts be troubled. No harm will come to you this night. Sleep well.”
***
Mikal and Majam stand guard. His charges all seem to be resting peacefully and breathing evenly. Somewhat late in the night, Majam becomes alert and meows quietly. Mikal easily enters her mind
“What is it, my feline friend?”
Mikal focuses on an obscure movement in the woods. Majam lets Mikal know that the whiff of odor she has detected is familiar. She had smelled it before in the city of Stonegrove.
It's a wererat. I don’t like them. They are foul
The blind wizard shudders. “They are also very dangerous.”
A new thought enters Mikal’s mind. He stands tall and lowers his staff near the flame. For a blink of time, the light of the fire ceases, but not the flame or the heat it radiates.
Mikal, speaking to his now black cat, expounds, “I believe I have captured light from the flame. Now I will attempt to shape it into a long, jagged shard. Look to my staff. The luminosity surrounds it. Majam, be my eyes, help guide my aim.”
The cat conveys to the wizard to wait until the beast’s red eyes appear and to be patient. With his cat’s senses, Mikal looks to where the wererat is skulking. Two crimson orbs do materialize. Mikal instantly releases the rigid, light spike from the staff. It races unerringly toward its target. A chilling scream and a brilliant burst of light assures Mikal that he has scored a hit. The lurking creature reveals its location. It is severely wounded and staggers away into the deep woods.
“We are fortunate that the sleep spell is not easily broken by sound and that all seem unaware of what just happen.”
Majam hisses. I do not sense any others, but I will stand guard for the rest of the night.
***
Come the dawn, the villagers sluggishly awake. They appear refreshed, though somewhat confused. Mikal does not detect the gray mist of fear he sensed earlier.
One of the villagers looks to Mikal and asks, “What will become of us? Where can we go? We can't go back.”
“Are any of you familiar of the city of Stonegrove?”
The old man of the group nods.
“I was there when I was young.”
“Good. The city is not far from here.” Pointing east, Mikal instructs, “Proceed to the Phalanges River and follow it downstream. It will lead you to the city. I shall write a letter for you to present to the Lady Lizabetha Burnshire. Here, take your fill of these berries and drink from the stream. With any luck, you might find help along the way.”
Lady Beecher approaches
“We've lost so much.”
“I empathize with you. I have lost my wife and I know the pain.”
“You have no one, then?”
“I have a daughter.”
The woman nods
“She is fortunate to have you as her father. We must take care of the children. I now believe that we can find the city. I thank you, Melchior Brightstar. We all thank you.”
Majam emits a wistful meow. This time the children approach her unafraid and pet her affectionately. In doing so, they feel better as they embark upon their new journey.
Chapter 6
In time, Mikal enters the Valley of Endorr. He notices two paths to the valley below. He chooses the one less traveled. It is midmorning and riders pass him by, carrying banners and pennants of the houses to which they owe allegiance. Some are more colorful than others. Mikal approaches the main camp and starts toward a large, white tent.
It seems to me that everyone is trying to outdo everyone else. This appears to be more of a festival then a serious prophecy.
A guard strides toward Mikal.
“Get out of the road, fool. These are important people.”
Mikal turns and the guard sees his white eyes.
“Are you a beggar? Turn around and leave. You don't belong here.”
Mikal, holding his staff of light in his left hand, cradles his cat Majam in his right.
“I am not a beggar, but what do you have against them? I have been invited to attend the gathering.”
A second guard approaches, riding a horse.
“What goes on here?”
“This man claims he has received an invitation, but look at him.”
The man on horseback asks, “Sir, what is your name? Have you been given a password?”
“I am Melchior Brightstar. The word I was given is Aurum.”
“Aurum, you say? You there, apologize to this man and take him as quickly as possible to the Captain of the Guard. Pass others by if necessary. Now hurry.”
The soldier submissively bows and apologizes to Mikal.
“Please, sir, follow me.”
The two approach the Captain of the Guard who stands in front of the grand, white tent. He has just admitted an older Red Wizard who was being assisted by a young Red Robe, who is denied entry.
“Sir, I present to you Melchior Brightstar. His credential is Aurum.”
The Captain nods. He and Mikal enter the beautiful, spacious tent. Rows of seats spread out before them and lead to a natural-made, stone stage. Mikal notices only one or two representatives are allowed to enter behind them. Curiously, some seats have distinctive colorful fabrics shrouding them. The Captain of the Guard snaps his fingers and two young girls immediately appear.
“This is the man you have been expecting. Please escort him to his seat.”
Mikal is surprised. One of the girls is holding and petting a squirrel in her arms.
“My name is Catherine and this is my friend Monica.”
Monica offers a beautiful smile and asks, “What a magnificent cat…may we pet him?”
“Certainly. She will enjoy it. Her name is Majam.”
Majam does enjoy it and purrs contentedly.
Before Mikal can ask, the girls beckon and tell him to follow. Mikal and Majam do so. They quickly walk left to a far corner of the tent, turn toward the front, pass all the seats, and walk up a few steps to where two chairs are waiting, parallel to the stage.
“We did not know how many of you would attend. Please be seated. May we get you some tea, perhaps?”
“No thank you,” responds Mikal.
“If there's anything you need just let us know. We will not be far off. Goodbye, for now.”
Mikal inspects the sheer fabric that he faces and is to his side; it is impressive. When he looks out toward the audience, everything is clear but looking back the other way, his seats are obscured. A simple way to keep one’s identity hidden, he thinks.
Mikal observes, “Seeing that everyone’s attention was on the stage when we entered, Majam, I believe no one in the audience is aware of our presence.”
With the great cat on his lap, he senses a young girl standing off to the side. She looks like she has just entered adolescence. She gracefully walks toward Mikal. Her long, brown hair hides much of her face and her large brown eyes shine brightly.
“I knew you would come. Some questioned me but I had no doubt. It is important that you are here. I'm sorry, my name is Aurum. I thank you for coming.”
Mikal responds, “My name is Melchior Brightstar and this is the cat Majam. If I remember correctly, your name means shining dawn.”
“Of course, you are correct. It is said that when the first light of day touches the land, one sees most clearly. All my visions reveal themselves at dawn.”
She absently curls a lock of dark hair with her finger.
“I believe you are known by other names as well.”
Mikal only smiles.
Sensing his reluctance, she attempts a different approach.
“Sir, how long have you had this magnificent ca-”
; The question is interrupted by applause from the audience. There had been a girl dancing, accompanied by enchanting music, but the dance and music has ended.
“Oh look, it's about to start! Sister Fluere has been chosen to speak for us. She is quite attractive and fluent.”
Without a sound, Sister Fluere enters the stone stage. Her impossibly long, luxurious, glistening, black hair flows and moves with each step of her tall, lithe body. Her delicate, light blue dress clings to her, accentuating her female form. The shimmering fabric changes its hues and shades with every movement. Her feet lightly kiss the ground with each stride. She stops. Her exquisite, large, dark eyes catch Mikal’s gaze for but a moment. She turns toward the audience and hesitates. There is utter silence. She has captured everyone's complete attention.
“I apologize, for this is neither the time nor place for enchantment or illusion.”
She closes her eyes for a moment. Mikal notices that she is tall but maybe not as tall as she appeared at first glance. Her hair is very beautiful but maybe not as luxurious as it was moments ago.
“I thank you all for your presence. As you know, some of us have different talents. I believe some of your learned men have been receiving disturbing prophecies about the near future. We also have had these visions, but up to recently they have been incomplete and confusing. We have a young sister whose prescience is more detailed than any we have had before. Her first vision came months ago: three black-robed wizards found and, after six attempts, disentombed the Ebony Knight, the herald of an Ebony Wizard.”
A man in a black-hooded robe stands and protests, “I don't believe this. We would never condone such a thing.”
Sister Fluere nods. “I should have stated that they were rogue wizards.”
“I still do not believe it! No Black Robe would take part in this seditious act.”
The Warrior and the Wandering Wizard (The Way of the Wandering Wizard Series Book 2) Page 3