The Warrior and the Wandering Wizard (The Way of the Wandering Wizard Series Book 2)

by Michael Novak

  “Now, Majam, let us see if my plan works.”

  One of the brutal men unlocks the cell door and opens it. The other enters but, astonishingly, he sees neither Mikal nor his cat.

  “They're gone, but how can this be?”

  “I told you to be careful. He was a wizard of some sort!”

  The two panic and run from the cell, leaving the prison door ajar. Majam bounds off Mikal’s lap and scurries across the floor. Mikal stands, drops his shackles, crosses his cell, dons his cloak, and grabs his staff. He walks through a long corridor, opens a heavy wooden door, and steps into sunlight.

  Chapter 9

  “Mikal, wake up. I thought you would want to leave early.”

  The White Wizard sits up disoriented.

  “I must have been dreaming. It was a strange dream indeed.” He hesitates. “I may have learned something useful from it though.”

  After a simple breakfast, the three approach the secluded path that will lead them out of the valley.

  Monica asks, “Where are you going next?”

  “I must report back and explain to my associate everything that has happened these past few days. I think it would be wise for you to return now, before the rains come.”

  The two girls look to the sky and are confused. They see what could be storm clouds, but they are at some distance.

  Mikal assures the two. “The rain is coming and it will be very heavy. I believe I know where the path will take me. Thank you, you have been very kind and I hope to meet you again. It would be best if you left now.”

  The two girls nod, say their goodbyes, and disappear down the isolated path.

  ***

  Mikal winces as the first touch of a cold wind surrounds him. While Majam leads the way, the wizard looks ahead and tries to memorize the path through his cat’s eyes. Cool drops of rain start to kiss Mikal hands and face. The daylight dims as distant rolls of thunder foretell a powerful storm on the horizon. The wind starts to bite and Mikal leans forward to keep his balance.

  “Majam, come back. I will hold you in my cloak.”

  With Majam’s head peering out to help Mikal find his way, they make slow progress. The wizard’s boots sink deeper into the mire. The sky brightens for just a moment and Mikal spies a odd-shaped rock that seems vaguely familiar. The path splits here. He gently raps the rock for luck, and takes the trail to the left this time.

  “It seems like we are walking through a wall of water. We must find shelter.”

  A brilliant flash momentary reveals their surroundings. A tall, crude outcropping appears just off the route. Mikal huddles next to the small hill.

  “At least we are somewhat protected from this awful wind and rain. What a dark and dreary night this is.”

  ***

  Not far from the soggy wizard and his cat, rides the shadow knight. The storm’s full fury hits the herald as if nature itself protests the rider’s very existence. A great bolt of energy crashes into a mystical, unseen net pulled by the Dark Knight and, for just a brief moment, a gash opens and a nondescript, spectral form slithers out. A deafening crack of thunder erupts, jolting the surrounding forest. Even Mikal feels its effect. The sinister warrior rides on and soon approaches Mikal’s hidden position. He stops, perhaps sensing the White Wizard’s presence.

  Through Majam’s eyes, Mikal witnesses this unnerving sight and shudders.

  “I can feel the dread that this abomination is casting.”

  Mikal and his cat close their eyes. The White Wizard focuses and steels himself from this horror. Suddenly, Mikal opens his eyes. Another flash of blinding light fills the surroundings. The whites of Mikal’s eyes start to swirl as the forest turns pitch black.

  “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood wondering, fearing what it is I am seeing. Some sort of preternatural net I spy, captured, woeful spirits cry. I must not, will not just stand by… and let this Ebony Knight drag them to perdition.”

  A thunderous sound rocks the very ground. The black steed is off with rider, its condemned cargo in tow. The moment has passed. Mikal waits. The storm’s rage starts to ebb.

  “Well, Majam, we cannot wait here forever. Let us see if we can find more suitable shelter.”

  With Majam’s sight guiding them, the wizard slogs though the muddy path. Though the dark and rain, Majam squints and sees a dim, shivering light. A short time later, a large, nondescript man surprises Mikal by holding a lantern up to the White Wizard’s startled face.

  “Hold! Who are you and what are you about?” he demands forcefully.

  “I am a lonely traveler looking for refuge from this storm. I am from the city of Addis,” Mikal says through the droplets pouring down his face.

  “Well, you and your soggy cat seem harmless enough and no one should be out in this gullywhumper. But beware; there has been a strange sighting tonight. You best go to that lighted building you see ahead.”

  Mikal thanks the characterless man and soon finds himself knocking on a well-made, wooden door. He opens the portal and enters. Inside, a crackling flame fills the room with warmth. Six people sit around a sizable table made of ash. A young man nods in welcome. Majam leaps from her master’s robe and bounds to a cozy spot by the fire. Somewhere an old dog gives a half-hearted growl.

  An aged woman responds, “Now hush, Duke. Don’t mind him. Please warm yourse’f by the hearth like yer cat. Kin I get you anything?”

  “Thank you. Some hot water for tea would be most welcome.”

  “Hey, now, why don’t you take off that watersogged cloak? It be much more comfortable,” a middle-aged woman with protruding ears suggests.

  Mikal complies and hangs his water-laden, hooded robe on a wooden knob. From a few seats away, a small headed man with one eye stares and inquires of Mikal, “Hey you, what’s wrong with yer eyes? Are you blind? You hung up that heavy cloak mighty easy.”

  Before the wizard can reply another man interjects, “Who are you and where are you from?”

  Mikal hesitates and knows he must put these suspicious people at ease.

  “I am sorry. My name is Melchior Brightstar from the city of Addis and this is my cat. You are correct. I am blind, but my cat helps me. Her name is Majam. I thank you for your warm fire and dry building. I mean you no harm.”

  The older women questions, “What did you do in the city of Addis?”

  “I taught at the School of the Three Moons.”

  “Ah, a learned man!”

  The door opens unexpectedly, letting in whistling rain and wind that brings with them a tall, thin man with a frantic voice.

  “Martha! You must come right quick. Something’s wrong with Lucy. She got caught up in the storm. I heard a scary wail, and then I found her, but she is not right! Come quick, please!”

  The aged woman hurriedly dons a heavy-hooded shawl and leaves with the tall, thin man.

  “I wonder what that was all about?” someone asks.

  The rest shake their heads in bewilderment.

  The man with one eye replies, “There are many strange happenings occurrin’ o’ late. I heard a two-headed goat was born on Jo Jon’s farm just two days ago. Someone claimed they saw an armored knight ridin’ a mighty big, black stallion.”

  The middle aged woman scoffs, “Why would a knight be in these parts?”

  Mikal silently sips his tea. The conversation eventually changes to the more mundane affairs of the local inhabitants. Turnip greens and wheat bread are passed around. Mikal is impressed that the people of these small hamlets are so hard working and resilient and how they take everything in stride. The door opens again and the older woman enters, frantically picking up her potions and herbs. She turns, gives a quick look to Mikal, hesitates, and then leaves. A little while later, Mikal is given a mat stuffed with straw and a place to sleep close by the fire.

  Chapter 10

  It is well past midnight when Mikal awakens.

  “I am sorry t’ wake ya, but I am at my wit’s end. You said you teached at the
School of the Three Moons? Lemme ax you, do you know anythin’ of the healin’ arts?”

  Mikal groggily sits up and replies, “Yes, some.”

  “Good, good. My name’s Martha. Kin you hep me? Please come. I’ll git yer belongin’s and will guide you. It’s just a short ways.”

  “Thank you, but that will not be necessary. My cat will be my eyes and I would be happy to return your hospitality. Please, show us the way.”

  After donning his traveling cloak and grabbing his staff of light, Mikal and his cat follow the old healing woman down a well-worn path. The wind and rain had stopped some time ago, and the drying out has begun. They approach a humble dwelling. Martha lightly knocks and enters. Though Majam’s sight, Mikal takes stock of his surroundings. Across the floor his senses are drawn to a young woman lying on a bed. Her breathing is labored and she is abnormally still.

  The house is modest, but sturdy. It has two small windows, one facing the east and the other the west. There is a table and a few chairs, a cupboard, and a storage chest. The woman’s bed is near the fire. Mikal knows something is amiss.

  The healing woman explains, “I found her thrashin’ about and yellin’ things I couldn’t git. Even with her husbin’s he’p it was difficult, but I was able to examine her. There was no dang wounds to be found. No broken bones to be set. There’s no fever even. In fact, she feels cool to the touch. She was in miz’ry though. She looked like she was trying to hurt hersef so’s I give her sup’tin’ to calm her down. But, dang it, it dint work. I tripled the amount. She finally fell asleep, but you kin see she is in a strange way. We moved her close to the far. Tell me, Melchior Brightstar, do you know any healin’ spells that might he’p her?”

  Mikal approaches the prone women and recalls incantations taught to him by Amadeus Whitestone. He places one hand on her cool brow and the other on her right shoulder. The young women suddenly tenses. The White Wizard begins to intone a simple spell but suddenly stops. Somehow she is resisting it. He starts again, this time using a stronger incantation. Immediately the woman sits up, spastically throws her arms at Mikal, and emits an unearthly howl. The wizard steps back aghast but quickly gathers himself and places a potent sleep spell upon her. She falls back dead asleep, but panting as if she needed more air.

  “I knew you was morein’ you seemed t’ be,” pipes a self-satisfied Martha. “Do ya know what’s wrong with her?”

  Mikal shakes his head. But I as I should, he thinks.

  The healing woman huffs, “We should all git some rest. Mebbe the mornin’ will reveal what we cain’t see now.”

  Mikal agrees and sits before the east window holding onto his staff with Majam by his feet. The old woman rests on a mat by the fire. The husband seats himself next to his wife and gently takes her hand. He does not close his eyes for quite some time.

  ***

  Mikal stirs. He is leaning heavily on his staff which is softly vibrating. He gradually opens his eyes. To his unease, the whites in his eyes start to swirl in a disorientating way. The wizard then focuses on a polluted, malevolent apparition that appears to be inside the ill, young woman. The others still sleep. The sinful phantasm starts to writhe as if somehow aware of Mikal’s stare. Mikal immediately closes his eyes, breaking contact. He believes he hears a muffled, distant moaning. Still, no one awakens.

  “What shall I do?” he whispers to himself.

  Again he becomes attuned to his staff. The light of a new day gently peers through the window, bathing the room, but it seems like a cloak of bleakness is filtering it. Mysteriously, the staff imparts to the wizard a new spell. Mikal finds himself repeating the words as if in a trance. The brightening light enters the east window and travels to the staff but not beyond. Mikal captures more and more sunlight. Majam awakens. Mikal stops his incantation, and waits. The mystical staff changes its tune. The White Wizard starts to twist his staff one way then back to the other between his palms. Slowly at first, until a single, long strand of sunlight appears. He repeats the whole process again, faster this time. Soon more sunlight strands fill the air. Mikal allows himself to become totally immersed in the spell. He now starts to weave a pattern. Majam stares mesmerized with the intricate light show above her. A design emerges.

  Martha and the husband awaken. The man is about to speak but the healing woman shakes him off and softly whispers, “Don’t disturb him.”

  The wizard’s hands and voice are in perfect symphony. The hands move like an orchestra conductor’s, while his voice produces a recurring melody. A cloak of sunlight starts to take shape. Again, Mikal alters the spell ever so slightly. For the final touch, a golden hood is added and the magical tune stops. The White Wizard slumps back into his chair, exhausted from the effort. The bright-hooded cloak hovers for but a moment and starts to fall.

  “Please, do not let it touch the ground.”

  The healing-woman rushes to stop its descent. The lighted garment ever so softly falls onto Martha’s outstretched arms.

  She looks to Mikal. “Thar’s no weight to this amazing’ garmint, but I kin feel its healin’ warmth.”

  The weary wizard asks, “Will you please place it on her and make sure it touches her skin.”

  The husband helps her place the young woman in a sitting position, removes her upper clothes, and places the hooded, sunlit cloak upon her shoulders. Mikal instructs them to secure the hood tightly around her head. Instantly, the young woman falls back and becomes rigid; her legs straight out with her toes pointed forward, her arms tight at her sides, her mouth gaping wide open. Disturbing, gurgling sounds come from her gasping mouth. Mikal’s staff is still holding back the sunlight. The room is illuminated from the dying embers in the fireplace and from the bright cape. The White Wizard senses evil and the whites of his eyes start to swirl again. He sees one, then another, and then another dark and dusty tendril groping out of the afflicted girl’s mouth. Ever so slowly this vile specter pulls itself out of its now bright, unpleasant host. It starts to twist itself around. It catches Mikal’s penetrating stare and screams, but no sound is heard, though everyone feels a fleeting chill. The White Wizard lowers his staff and allows the room to be flooded with the light from the new born day. The deplorable entity cannot stand the brilliance. It slams into the back wall noiselessly, where it dissipates, leaving only a shadowy smudge.

  All is quiet. Mikal’s hooded, sunlight garment fades and blends into the rest the room. Then everyone becomes aware of the even breathing of the young woman and notice that her color has greatly improved. Her husband gives her a long, heartfelt embrace.

  Martha looks to Mikal. “Well, I’ll be a blue-nosed gopher! I don’t know what t’ say. That twas amazin, and we’all thanks ya. If thar’s anythin’ we kin do fer ya, why, you jest name it.”

  “Majam and I are hungry,” suggests Mikal.

  Martha wildly waves her arms in exasperation. “Well, shucks, darlin’, I’ll cook ya up more food than you and that big, sassy cat could eat in a week. Foller me.”

  Before they can leave, the young woman unexpectedly shouts, “I keep a clean house! How did that dirty stain on the back wall get there?”

  Relieved laughter.

  “I will explain later,” her husband promises. Mikal, in a matter-of-fact voice, replies, “Oh, some lamb’s blood and water will remove it.”

  ***

  Soon Mikal and Majam are in the main house enjoying a feast at breakfast. The story of how the stranger healed Lucy is rapidly spreading. With each telling, the story becomes more outlandish and embellished. Mikal tries to downplay his role in the healing, but to no avail. The wizard simply sips tea while his cat laps milk. A large man with a sober look enters the cabin. Mikal believes it is the man who confronted him the previous night in the storm. He strides to Mikal.

  “There is man outside who is looking for someone. He says he is a courier from the City of Stonegrove. He has a message for a Melchior Brightstar, who has red hair and may be traveling with a large cat and a half-elf. I told him
nothing but that I would ask in here. Have you seen this man?” he winks.

  Mikal ponders the situation.

  “If he is from Stonegrove, let him in.”

  The man nods. “Oh, he is from the city, I can tell by the horse he rides. They are not too big, and they put markings on them. I will fetch him.”

  Minutes later, an official looking young man with tousled blonde hair stands before the Wizard and his cat. After a few questions, the courier hands Mikal a waxed, sealed envelope.

  “I am to wait for an answer. I will be outside.” After bowing slightly, he takes his leave.

  Mikal notices the letter “B” imprinted in the wax. He breaks the seal and opens the letter.

  Dear Melchior Brightstar,

  I hope this letter finds your hands. The danger has grown. The opposition has eyes and ears everywhere and the situation is urgent. If you could possibly come to Stonegrove, I would be forever in your debt. Do not contact me directly, but go to the Baron Stannum Estate. The family can be trusted. They will contact me. Please be careful.

  B.

  The White Wizard strokes his beard. He rises, thanks the people, and tells them, “If a young half-elf asks for me, tell him that my cat and I went to the City of Stonegrove.”

  Chapter 11

  Mikal sets out on the path as the locals directed. He travels uneventfully for the rest of the afternoon and at length approaches the main road that will take him to Stonegrove. The White Wizard decides to camp for the night. He chooses a secluded spot just off the main travel route. For the next few hours, Mikal and Majam are aware of travelers passing by. Luckily, no one notices their hidden camp. A rare, peaceful night passes.