The Unwilling Apprentice (Book 2)

by Heidi Willard

  The companions left while Cousin Michael and Martley stayed with the king. The Lady turned to Stephen. "Are you so sure of this journey, Your Highness? Would it not be best to let Lady Lamikan remain here?"

  Stephen firmly shook his head. "No. When my father arises I wish for his bride to meet him and no other." He turned his dark eyes on Martley. "If you have any worries for their safety, you're welcome to come along with them."

  Lady Martley smiled and bowed. "I thank you for the offer but I'm afraid I would only be in the way, Your Highness."

  CHAPTER 14

  The companions were quiet as they retreated back to Ned's bedroom. Pat was stunned by Cousin Michael's offer to perform the black magic. "What could the king mean by this cousin? The Priests of Phaeton have always been pure, so what Order in their ranks would allow such debauchery as black magic?"

  "The dark half to the fire," Ned informed her. He shuffled over to the bed and wearily seated himself. "You dwelt with the half that worships a god of purification, but others worship him as a god of destruction and darkness. This Cousin Michael is of that chaotic order that inhabits the north and west of Galaron."

  "Then this is ordained by Phaeton?" she asked him.

  Ned sighed. "You will soon learn that nothing is a perfect black nor a perfect white, and no one is as they seem."

  Pat frowned, but abstained from any further argument. "Then if that is true, what are we to do? How are we to proceed?" she countered.

  Ned leaned his staff against the end of the bed, and pulled out a nightcap and slippers from his cloak. He plopped it on his head and the slippers onto his feet. "I say this is the perfect time for a good night's rest. The king will keep to his word and have us out of his sight before breakfast."

  Pat rolled her eyes, but led Ruth back to their room. When they'd gone Fred turned to his master. "Do you think we will run into trouble out there?"

  Ned chuckled, and there was no mirth in that sound. "No, I don't think we will run into trouble. I know we will find trouble out there."

  The pair retired, but Fred couldn't sleep. He kept thinking back to the priest and their mission to raise the dead king. He was haunted by images of a rotting corpse bursting from the ground and grabbing him.

  Then something did grab him. Fred opened his mouth to scream, but a hand clapped over his face and stifled his scream to a squeal. Someone bent over him and long hair brushed against his cheek. "Quiet," Lady Martley whispered. "I mean you no harm. Please come with me."

  She pulled her hand away and stood. Fred sat up and watched her retreat out of the room and into the hall. He glanced over to the bed and saw the covers rise and fall with the snoring sounds. Fred thought to wake Ned, but Martley urgently beckoned him from the doorway. He rose and followed her out into the hall. She closed the door and turned to clasp his hands in hers. He'd never seen so many emotions on a single person's face. The most prominent was fear. "Do you intend to go with Ned and the others tomorrow?" she asked him. He frowned, but nodded. "I beg you to do me a single favor, and not follow him. He doesn't understand the dangers."

  "What are the dangers?" Fred asked her.

  Martley pursed her lips together and shook her head. "I cannot tell you, but know that I have only your best interest in my heart." She squeezed his hands and knelt in front of him. He had a great view down her dress. "Please promise me you won't travel with your friends tomorrow."

  Fred cringed. They would think him a coward. "I can't, but maybe if you told Ned-"

  "No!" she hurriedly whispered. She took a deep breath and smiled. "I cannot tell him, nor anyone else. I'm bound by a promise, but rest assured I mean only for your safety. Convince your friends to stay if you must, but please don't go to the valley."

  "We have to go, the king's ordered us," he reminded her. "And I can't leave my friends. They might need me."

  They heard a noise from inside the bedroom; Ned was stirring. Martley stood and opened the door for Fred. There was a sad smile on her lips. "Very well, brave castor. Face the demons, and embark on your destiny."

  Fred wanted to ask her about that destiny part, but she put her hand on his back and shoved him into the room. He stumbled and rolled onto his bed, and when he caught himself and turned around the door was shut. Ned rolled over and his old eyes blinked at the boy. "Something the matter?" he asked Fred.

  "What? Oh, no, it's nothing." Fred shook himself and slid beneath his blankets. He kept his eyes on the door, and Ned frowned. The boy lied to him, but he would wait until Fred was ready to tell him what was the matter.

  The next morning, long before sunrise, the companions were awoken by the castle guards and escorted downstairs. They were given a quick, cold breakfast, and Cousin Michael, Lady Martley, and Hawkins greeted them at the front doors. Martley stepped forward and clasped Pat's hands. She looked over the young girl with soft eyes. "May you be protected and return here safely," she prayed.

  Pat smiled and bowed her head; she felt no more animosity toward the woman. Fred didn't think Pat would be so chummy if she knew about their rendezvous last night. "I thank you."

  Hawkins had a bundle in his hands, and presented it to Pat. "You shouldn't leave without this," he told her.

  Pat took the bundle and unwrapped the cloth to find her family's sword. In the shock of the king's announcement she'd forgotten about this most precious gift. "Thank you, captain. Keep the castle while I'm gone."

  "And you keep yourself," he replied.

  "It's time we left," Cousin Michael spoke up.

  The four companions were flanked by the promised contingency of guards and banner men with Cousin Michael at the head. Horses waited in the courtyard, and they had their first hiccup. Fred had never ridden a horse, and the horses smelled Ruth's true identity. It came that when everyone else mounted, those two had a little more trouble. Fred's horse smelled his fear, and Ruth's horse feared her smell, so both horses protested their riders by rearing up and whinnying.

  The stable men held the reins and calmed the steeds, but the horses refused their riders. The delay irritated Cousin Michael. "If you cannot ride then you are best left here."

  Fred didn't like that suggestion. "What about Fluffy? I'm sure Canto will let us take him," he suggested.

  The guardsmen and priest stared at him blankly. "What is this Fluffy?" Cousin Michael asked him.

  "He's my cantankus. I'm sure he'd be willing to take me where we're going," Fred replied.

  "A cantankus? The one held by Canto?" Hawkins repeated, and Fred nodded. "I'm afraid they're both under house arrest at the moment for assaulting several citizens."

  Fred paled, and whipped his head over to Ned. "We can't leave them like that! We need to go see them!"

  "We haven't time for your foolishness," Cousin Michael insisted. He turned his horse toward the castle gates. "Ride a horse or be left behind."

  "The boy will ride with me, and the girl with Lady Lamikan," Ned suggested. Fred was grudgingly pushed up in front of Ned, and Ruth in back of Pat, though it took all of Pat's skills to keep their horse calm.

  With everyone saddled they traveled through the city and out the gate, where they turned to the northeast and the mountains that stood there. A narrow path wound its way up through the mountains, and they followed in single file until they reached the top at midday.

  The view before them was unobstructed for miles. Spread out before them lay a wide river valley hemmed in on all sides by low hills. The river flowed from the mountain on which they stood and ended its journey at their destination, a large, peaked mountain off in the distance. A crag of earth stuck out from the foot of the mountain and projected itself over the plain. Beneath the crag was a wide, open area devoid of vegetation and Fred saw that something shimmer among the desolation, but he couldn't make out what it was.

  The path they followed was narrow along the whole length of the valley, and on both sides was a heavy forest of tall, old trees and thick brush. A single open spot lay halfway between where they stood
and the crag. That would be their single stopping point.

  The distance across the plains was about one hundred miles through wilderness, over a day's worth of riding. Cousin Michael led the way and was a harsh taskmaster. He hurried them along, and by the first night the youngsters had sore butts and were grateful when darkness fell. They made camp beside the river, and Cousin Michael instructed the guards and banner men to stand watch in the woods. The four friends settled themselves as comfortably as they could manage against a few spare logs with Cousin Michael, and Ned glanced at their guide. "You mentioned you had heard of me. I hope the tales were flattering."

  Cousin Michael smirked and gave a nod. "Indeed, many of them were very flattering. You have helped the Order a great many times." The youngsters' ears perked up at mention of Ned's elusive past.

  "I have helped the Priests of Phaeton, not the Order," Ned corrected him.

  Cousin Michael chuckled. "I suppose that is a more accurate view of things," he agreed. "But where do your questions lead? Surely you don't wish for idle chat."

  "You well know I intend to speak with you of our mission, otherwise you wouldn't have set the guards so far off." The youngsters glanced around and realized Ned was right; the guards were beyond earshot.

  The priest of Phaeton leaned back against his log and pulled out the black book. "You wish to know what secrets I hold in this book, don't you?"

  Ned surprised him by shaking his head. "I wish for you to burn it and lose the knowledge inside your head."

  Cousin Michael narrowed his eyes and hurriedly pushed the book back into his cloak. "I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, the cousins of the Order would be very angry with me if I destroyed such valuable information. They only allowed the book to be carried outside the Order's house on the wishes of our patron, King Stephen."

  Ned raised an eyebrow. "So this comes down to money?"

  Cousin Michael chuckled. "Doesn't it always? Do not both our Orders exist because there is payment to be had for our services?"

  "So King Stephen has requested your unique services, and you come at the promise of what? A new wing to your house?" Pat covered her mouth to stifle her gasp.

  The priest shook his head. "No, a new house situated in the very heart of Galaron. There we will offer our services to the citizens, for a price, of course."

  Pat sprang to her feet with her hands clenched at her sides. "This-this is disgusting!" Her angered eyes flashed at the priest. "What man of Phaeton would allow such debasement of their god?"

  "A god cannot keep us clothed nor feed us," Cousin Michael countered with a scowl. "Though I'm sure your priests would know nothing about such deprivations. With you as their ward they were amply provided for by Galaron's treasuries, and offered free protection from the likes of Sir Edwin here."

  "Ned. Edwin is no longer my name," the old man countered.

  Cousin Michael stood and his eyes swept over the group. "Whatever alias you would use, know this. I have been entrusted with resurrecting the dead king, and intend to do the bidding of my patron. Efforts to stop me will fail, and I will not hesitate to order the guards to execute you. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Crystal," Ned replied.

  CHAPTER 15

  The cousin went out into the dark woods, and Pat plopped down in shock. "This is horrible..." she whispered.

  "Indeed it is, but the scruples of priests are the least of our worries at this moment," Ned spoke up. He gazed into the fire and pursed his lips together. "Whether or not he has the skill to revive the king, that black book may ensure some disaster for us."

  "Do you know what's inside it?" Fred asked him.

  Ned shook his head. "I can't be sure, but I have heard of these black books. They are written by fallen castors, and those books that survive the death of their writer or fall into others' hands can cause a great deal of trouble. None but the original castor knows the proper use of the incantations, and even they sometimes succumbed to the magic. For others to try any of the spells is folly."

  "And here we are with a fool," Pat bitterly commented.

  Ruth put an arm around her and gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Perhaps he won't be able to work the magic at all."

  "Perhaps, but only time will tell," Ned replied.

  "Who's there! Halt!" came a sudden cry.

  Everyone jumped to their feet and Cousin Michael hurried out of the brush, tripping over his half raised trousers and with the book clutched under one arm. The guards raced to the path behind them and everyone glimpsed two lanterns high off the ground. Two men rode on horseback and held up the lights, and a familiar voice snapped at the guards who blocked their path. "Let us through!" Sturgeon demanded.

  "We have come by permission of the king," Percy chimed in with a calmer voice.

  Cousin Michael stumbled up to them and glared at the pair. "Who are you? What business brings you here?" he questioned them.

  Sturgeon bristled at the priest's harsh tone. "I am Lord Sturgeon, sent here to assist this venture by order of King Stephen. You are the necromancer he has bought for the occasion?"

  The insult riled Cousin Michael because it was so close to the truth. "However he came into my services, we do not need your assistance. Leave here before-"

  At that moment there was a loud roar in the air above them. Everyone froze, and their heads whipped this way and that. Another cry came from the skies and a large shadow flew over them. Ned's eyes widened and he raised his staff to create a shimmering shield over the party in time to block a fury of fire.

  Cousin Michael's mouth dropped open and he stumbled back to fall to the earth. He pointed a shaking hand into the sky, and choked out a single word. "D-dragon!"

  In the dim light of their torches and the fire that covered Ned's shield the party glimpsed the outline of the great lizard with wide, thin wings. Its red eyes and long, teeth-filled snout snarled at the intruders, while behind it the tail cracked the air. It roared and the noise reverberated off the steep sides of the narrow valley. The horses cried out and the men unsheathed their swords ready for battle with a foe they couldn't reach.

  Ned swept his hands in front of him, and both the shield and fire evaporated. He herded the youngsters together and knocked the tip of his staff on Fred's head. "I would appreciate some help," he scolded his apprentice.

  Fred blinked and his eyes widened. "Oh, right!" He pulled his stick out and it transformed into the staff.

  Percy and his father abandoned their frightened steeds and joined them, and the younger lord looked with wonder at the changed stick. "What an admirable disguise," he complimented Fred.

  "Later, Sir Percy!" Pat scolded.

  The creature swung around for another attack, and its great mouth opened for a repeat shot. Fred could see down its throat at the oil pouch, and the moment the beast spit out the flammable substance the air ignited it and changed the harmless liquid into a blast of scorching fire. Ned swung his staff at the creature, and from the tip shot his own stream of fire. The fires collided midair and lit the clearing as though it were day. The dragon quit its breathing before Ned's fuel ran out, and it dodged his stream of fire to fly harmlessly over them. It roared in anger, cheated of its rotisserie dinner.

  "That went better than expected," Ned laughed.

  "This might not work forever because here it comes again!" Pat pointed out.

  The dragon turned to make another pass at them, but it wasn't given the chance. Ned stiffened and swirled around to find Cousin Michael on the ground with the black book open before him. He quickly mumbled a few words, and with a small dagger he cut a short gash in his arm. The blood sprang from his arm and into the air. It twisted and curled in on itself, creating a monstrous blob of life fluid. It stretched and expanded until the rounded head reached high into the air.

  Fred cringed back in horror when he recognized the same creature as what they'd faced at Salaron Bridge. The only differences were this one was created from blood, and the source of the power was the black book rather
than a stone. The blood creature opened its mouth and roared while at its base Cousin Michael clutched at his arm and winced in pain.

  The creature saw the dragon, who screeched and flew toward its new opponent. The dragon opened its mouth to spit another plume of fire. The blood thing countered the action when a tentacle shot out from its body and hit the dragon in the face. The beast screamed and, blinded by the blood, crashed into the trees. It hit the ground and slid for a few yards before coming to a stop close to the river. The brush and fallen trees hid the dragon from their view, but they could still hear its breathing.

  Cousin Michael stood and directed his blood beast toward the fallen creature, intent on finishing the thing off. Ned marched up to the priest and decked him with his staff. Cousin Michael spun in a complete circle and fell to the ground, still alive but unconscious. The blood creature collapsed in on itself and burned all the earth it touched. Percy and a few of the guards rushed to Cousin Michael's side while Sturgeon scowled at Ned. "Why did you do that? He was our best chance at destroying the creature."

  Everyone jumped when the dragon groaned, and the guards remembered their duty to protect the group. They clattered toward the beast, but Ned struck his staff on the ground and the earth shook. "A moment, gentlemen," he tensely pleaded.

  "We may not have a moment," the guard leader insisted. "That creature may not be as injured as it seems, and they are as quick on the ground as in the air."

  Ned glared at the man. "There is something not quite right about this dragon. Stay your blades for five minutes and let me examine it."