Koren was startled by the faint scratching sounds of something, or someone, trying to move quietly through the woods along the riverbank. And there was another, louder sound, further away but drawing closer. Men’s voices, shouting, and what Koren thought were horses making their way through the woods at high speed.
The bushes along the shore above his head parted, and a man stepped out, followed by three more men. They were the type of men his parents warned against, hard-looking, carrying swords and knives, wicked grins on their faces. “What have we here? A rich girl, looks like, and her servant? I bet her parents would pay a pretty price to have their daughter back, in one piece, huh, boys?”
Bandits! It was Koren’s bad luck to stumble across woods that bandits were using as a hideout. Truly his life was jinxed! Koren rose unsteadily to his feet and pulled a knife from his belt. “Stay away from her.” He said in a voice hoarse from choking on water. He had never fought with a knife before, but it was a good blade, dwarf-made, and everyone knew dwarves were the finest metalworkers in the land.
“What? The lady’s pet has a sting? Forget her, boy, drop that knife and we’ll give you a share of the ransom money. More than you’d earn in a lifetime, I think.”
“Hurry up about it, Togan, we’ve got company coming.” One of the other bandits said, as the sound of men and horses crashing through the woods grew louder.
The man called Togan eased down the steep bank to stand on the rock on front of Koren. “I’ll not say it again, boy, stand aside. There’s no need for-“ Togan struck, moving his knife in a slashing motion toward Koren’s face, expecting the boy would flinch and back away. Instead, Koren’s own hand came up faster than he could see, and his knife cut Togan’s wrist, forcing the bandit to drop the knife.
“Argh!” Togan held his bloody wrist with his other hand. Koren found his ears burning red at the bad words Togan was screaming, in front of a girl.
“Don’t curse in front of a lady, mister.” Koren scolded the man.
“What?” The other bandits stared open-mouthed at Koren, as if they’d just discovered he had two heads. Who was this idiot boy? What kind of person cared about being polite, when attacked by bandits?
“Kill him!” Togan growled, as he tried to scramble backwards up the riverbank. One of the other bandits grasped Togan’s shirt collar and pulled to help the wounded man up, but Togan slipped and fell heavily onto the rock. “Help me up.” Togan ordered, as the sounds of men and horses crashing their way through the underbrush was now very loud, and Koren could see bushes swaying along the riverbank as the horses knocked them aside in their haste.
“Too late. Good luck to you, Togan.” Said the bandit who had been trying to help Togan, and at that, the other bandits melted back into the woods.
“Ungrateful scum! I’ll get you for this!” Togan shouted after his disloyal fellow criminals. “And you!” The bandit picked up his knife with his one good hand. “Forget the girl, I’m going to kill you.”
“I don’t think so.” Koren said, keeping himself between Togan and the girl, his knife ready. For some reason he couldn’t explain, with the knife in his hand, he wasn’t afraid, not one bit. Men on horseback burst out of the woods, and a half-dozen men slid off their saddles, drawing swords or fitting arrows to bowstrings. Koren was about to say he was glad to see the men, when their leader, a tall man wearing a tunic emblazoned with a golden dragon, shouted at his men. “Bandits! Seize them both! Kill them if they move!”
Koren’s heart fell. There he was, standing over the girl, a knife in his hand, just like Togan the bandit. Of course the soldiers thought he, too, was a bandit. If he were captured, Togan would likely confirm that Koren was indeed a bandit, and Koren would be thrown into a dungeon, or hanged. Koren glanced behind him at the river. He would rather take his chances in the rapids than be captured by these men.
The leader of the soldiers saw Koren looking at the river, and knew what he was thinking. “Don’t you move, boy. I’ll shoot you if I must.” The man scrambled down the riverbank.
Just then, the girl moaned, and raised a hand to her face. It was enough of a distraction for Koren to spin around, leap onto a rock, and throw himself into the river. He almost made it, but the soldiers were experienced and disciplined, and one of the men put an arrow into Koren’s left shoulder. Shocked by the searing pain, Koren dropped his knife, and fell head-first into the foaming rapids.
“Find him!” The leader ordered, and two of his men climbed out on rocks into the river, but Koren could not be seen. The wounded boy had been swept under, likely to drown, if the arrow hadn’t killed him.
Koren was barely aware of something gently rocking him side to side. There was a bright light above him, he blinked and it hurt to look at the light. He hurt all over, especially his head and his left shoulder. The rocking motion was making his shoulder hurt even more, pain which made him grit his teeth and tears to run down his face. The shock was giving him chills, chills not caused just by the cold river water. To protect his left shoulder, he rolled to his right, and almost breathed in a mouthful of water.
He was laying on his back, in shallow water near a riverbank, below the last of the rapids. The current was rocking him side to side. Somehow he had survived the trip through the raging waters. How far he had been pulled down the river, he did not know. The bright light above him was the noonday sun. This part of the river was wide and calm, with only a few ripples on the surface to show how fast the current was moving. It was quiet and peaceful, except for-
Horses. Again the sound of men and horses. They were hunting him, they would never stop hunting him. The soldiers would never believe Koren had only wanted to help the girl, after all, they had seen with their own eyes that he was a bandit, hadn’t they? He rolled onto his knees in the shallow water, and used his right arm to push himself to his feet. He could barely stand, the pain in his left shoulder was making him sick to his stomach. He felt with his right hand, and discovered part of the arrow shaft still stuck out from his shoulder. He needed to get it out, somehow. Later.
Horses splashed into the water on the other side of the river, and men shouted something to him. With eyes that could not focus properly, Koren looked back at the men, then turned and stumbled, tripping over his own feet, into the forest. The forest would protect him, give him a place to hide, to wait, hidden, until the soldiers tired of looking for him and went away.
He had not walked far when he heard horses splashing through the shallow water on his side of the river, they had swum across. He could see men climbing back onto their horses, spreading out to search for him.
His life was so unfair. Cursed to be a jinx. Exiled from his village. Abandoned by his parents. Forced out of every village in the land. And now, hunted as a bandit. What did it matter if he died now? Without the supplies in his pack, and with an arrowhead in his shoulder, he wouldn’t last long in the wilderness anyway. Good riddance to you, Koren Bladewell, the world said to him, good riddance to the jinx, the world is better off without you. Koren stopped, and faced the approaching soldiers, his back to a tree. The arrow shaft brushed against the tree, and Koren’s knees buckled with the overwhelming wave of pain. As the soldiers rode up to circle him, he pitched forward onto the ground, and the world slipped away.
Lord Paedris Don Salva de la Murta, master wizard and counselor to the throne of Tarador, looked down with dismay at the hem of his purple robe, which was dark and wet from trailing in the river. Certainly, Paedris would have preferred to simply wear pants, much more practical attire for tramping about in the woods. Being a wizard, however, indeed, the official court wizard of the land, he had to wear robes, because that is what people expected. Half the power of being a wizard was merely looking like a wizard, if Paedris dressed like a farmer then he might have to turn a couple people into toads to get some respect. Not that he would, or even could, turn people into toads; the threat was enough. He lifted his robe out of the water, then dropped it, as he realized he looked like what
women did with their dresses when stepping over a puddle. Perhaps he could get his robes shortened? He must speak with the royal tailor when he returned to the castle.
“Lord Salva?” A soldier called out from the riverbank.
“Yes?” Asked Paedris, without looking up from the river. Paedris had mostly black hair, gone grey at the temples, and he wore his hair long, like most men did, although Paedris did not tie his hair back out of the way soldiers did. A mustache and a short, pointy black beard added to the wizard’s dignity. “What is it?”
The soldier held up a worn pack. “I found this in the woods, it could belong to the boy. Doesn’t look like the sort of thing bandits would carry.”
“Very well.” Paedris said, and carefully stepped from one rock to another with long strides, back onto the riverbank. The soldier, one of the royal guards, was one of the men who had been in the back of the boat when it was attacked by the bear. The guard who had been in the front of the boat was on his way back to the Duke’s castle. Paedris had examined the man, he would have an impressive scar on his chest from where the bear’s claws had raked him, but otherwise should recover fully. “Tell me again, from the beginning.”
The soldier related how they had been on a picnic trip for the children, silly, really, but that is what the princess wanted, and all had been well until the bear charged out of the woods, with no warning.
“And you say the boy held his hand out, like this, and the bear fell over backwards?” For Paedris, that gesture, harm held straight, palm open, was part of a warding spell. Powerful magic, that was.
“Yes, my lord. The bear was on its hind legs, the boy must have startled it. Although it did seem as if the bear were flung backwards, almost, instead of falling. Then, the bear swatted at its face, as though it were being attacked by bees, and it turned around and ran back into the woods. It seemed to be blind, Lord wizard."
“Curious. Most curious.” Paedris closed his eyes and felt for the lingering power which permeated the area, the water, the rocks, the trees. The power was raw, uncontrolled, and frighteningly strong. The air fairly crackled with connection to the spirit realm. Stronger than any power Paedris had ever felt before, certainly stronger than any magic he had been able to handle himself. And there was something else, separate, something right at the edge of his senses, something sour, and dark, and evil. That power he recognized, and he feared. “Consider this. A bear, a wild animal that should only be looking to survive in the wilderness, for no good reason attacks a boat full of armed guards, and charges straight for Ariana. Of all the people in the boat, it concentrates on her. Then, this terrible beast who knocked aside three well-armed royal guards-“
“Forgive me, Lord Salva, but it was hardly a fair fight-“
“Never interrupt a wizard when he is thinking!” Paedris roared, using the tiniest bit of magic to add emphasis to his words.
The soldier fell to one knee and bowed his head. “Forgive me, my lord.”
“Forgiven. You accounted very well for yourself. This was no ordinary bear, you faced a dark and foul magic, and faced it bravely. Now, where was I?” Being mildly absent-minded did seem to be typical of wizards. “Ah, yes. So, this terrible, magic-spelled beast is then scared away by a boy, a young boy, all by himself. This boy who rescued Ariana from a bear, and a raging river and a gang of bandits. Not bad for a morning’s work, eh? I shall need to speak with this boy, as soon as possible.”
“I, uh, I beg to remind you, my lord, the boy was shot. By mistake. And he was almost drowned. Our captain fears he will not survive the day.”
“Oh,” Paedris said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, “I think the court wizard of Tarador may be able to do something about that.”
CHAPTER THREE
“How is the boy?” Carlana asked quietly as she leaned into the doorway.
Paedris rose from the chair beside Koren’s bed, the wizard had sat with the boy through the night. “He will live.” Paedris said simply. “The wound was not deep, the arrow hit his shoulder blade, I healed it as best I could. He did lose a lot of blood, I recommend he drink a broth of beef and vegetables when he awakens. For now, he is in a deep healing sleep.”
“Very well.” Carlana didn’t need her court wizard to tell her the best remedy to recover from blood loss. She looked out into the hallway, and gestured to dismiss her maids. “Who is he?"
“I don’t know, we don’t even know his name. From his clothing and the pack we found, I would say he is a peasant, but that doesn’t answer what he was doing alone in the woods. The guards searched the woods and found a camp site, the boy had been living there for a week or more.”
“Hmmmm. This boy, and a pack of bandits have been using Duke Yarron’s private hunting reserve as their campgrounds, for more than a week?” Carlana asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I think the Duke’s sheriff is going to have much to explain.”
Paedris did not care about whether people were poaching on the duke’s lands. “There is one thing of which we must speak. I don’t know who this boy is, or where he came from, but he is a wizard, the most powerful wizard I have ever known.”
“What? You are sure?” Carlana bit her lip. She saw the look in her wizard’s eyes.
Fear.
Paedris was afraid, afraid of this boy.
“There can be no mistake about it. He stopped that bear, without having any idea how he did it. The fact that the Wizards Council knew nothing of this boy, right here in our midst, is deeply troubling!”
“You didn’t know about him?” Carlana frowned. The boy had saved her daughter, three times in one morning. By rights, she should at least grant the boy a knighthood and a hundred acres of land somewhere. A thought popped into her head, she put one hand over her mouth, the other over her heart, and stepped away from the bed. “Acedor! If the Wizard’s Council did not know about him, could he-“
“No, no!” Paedris dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “There is no trace of the foul magics our enemy uses to confound us. He has not come from Acedor, I’m certain of it. When the boy wakes, I will talk to him, learn where he came from, and what he knows of magic. Until then, we let him rest.”
Koren awoke to the sound of voices, women’s voices. He lay very still, and cracked opened one eye just wide enough to see where he was. In a bed, a big, soft bed, with his head resting on a real pillow! Beyond the bed, the room appeared to be large, and through an open window, he could see flags flying in the breeze, and soldiers standing on top of a thick stone wall. He must be in a castle, somewhere. Koren had never seen a real castle, the only one around Crebbs Ford was the small building that was home to the Baron of Crickdon county. What was he doing in-
Soldiers. He remembered being captured by soldiers.
“-can’t believe everything the high and mighty tell you, Mathilda, why, I heard the little scamp was living in the Duke’s own private hunting reserve, he was, poaching deer and scooping up all the fish. Don’t know as how the Sheriff didn’t find him first, he’s supposed to be patrolling those woods. And you know, Duke Yarron don’t take kindly to poachers. No, he doesn’t.”
“I heard that poaching be the least of his worries.” Said another woman’s voice. “Found him with a pack of bandits, the guards did, and he led them on a merry chase before they captured him. Likely he was trying to kidnap poor Ariana, so you can talk all you want about him being a scamp, I say he’s a menace, pure and simple. Wouldn’t turn my back on him, I wouldn’t, no matter how young he is.”
Koren could hear two women, he was laying on his side, with his back to them.
“Well, the wizard will have the truth out of him, sure enough. In here all night with the boy, conjuring up demons, or whatnot it is wizards do. Gives me the creeps, it does, and the sooner that wizard is out of here and back to the palace, the happier I’ll be.”
“It gives me the creeps just to be in here, where he was working his foul magic. Finish folding those sheets, Mathilda, and let’s be rid of here. F
ancy letting this boy sleep in here! Should be in the dungeon, he should. They’ll hang him soon enough.”
There were rustling sounds, and shoes scuffing across a floor, and a door opening and closing with a solid thunking sound. Koren remained still for a good minute, until he was certain the women had gone, before he opened both eyes. His head was spinning. Duke Yarron? He didn’t know that name, so he must not be in his home Winterthur province. Whoever this Duke Yarron was, he apparently considered Koren to be a poacher. And a bandit. And a kidnapper.
Koren raised his head from the pillow and looked around the room. It was the most fabulous place he had ever imagined. The ceiling had to be twelve feet high, and the room was bigger than the entire common room at the Golden Trout Inn in Crebb’s Ford. Bigger even than many barns in his home town. There were pictures in gold-plated frames, large wall hangings, and an enormous fireplace at the far end of the room, over which was a crest, a red fox on a field of white. A large, fancy carved desk was up against the outside wall, Koren could see scuff marks on the stone floor where the desk had been pushed to make room for the bed he lay in.
Why was he in such a place? Were the Duke’s dungeons full? Surely the Duke didn’t treat all poachers, bandits and kidnappers by giving them a soft bed to lay in.
A chill ran up Koren’s spine. The women said something about a wizard, working foul magic on him? Koren abruptly sat upright in bed, his stomach churning with fear. What had the wizard done to him?! Koren had never met a wizard, all he knew about wizards were the fearful stories told around Crebb’s Ford. He pulled up the covers, he still had his own feet, and they worked. So he had not been turned into a pig, or a toad. The shoulder where the arrow had hit him was sore, he felt with his right hand and was surprised not to find a bandage there. Of course, if the Duke was planning to throw him in a dungeon and then hang him as a bandit, why bother bandaging the wound?
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