Magic, Sorcery and Witchcraft

by Stas Borodin

  “You’re on your own now, lad,” Van said. “The Palace Guard will take care of you.”

  We were met by the officer, dressed in shiny breastplate and elegant beret decorated with multicoloured feathers.

  “Good luck to you, Master Marcus!” The captain shook my hand. “As the gods are my witnesses, you’ll need it.”

  I watched him go. He was a strange man. One moment I hated him, but the next instant, I began to like him.

  “Make it snappy!” The officer shoved me in the back with such force that I almost fell. “Move your feet!”

  The palace smelled of fear. There were guards standing next to each door and on each stairwell. These big hefty men in uncomfortable velvet uniforms seemed out of place. Their jackets were several sizes too small, and the ceremonial weapons that they held in their rough calloused hands looked like small brittle toys.

  “Faster!” The officer pushed me again. “And stop gawking!”

  I was familiar with these rooms and corridors. I’d been there many times before; maybe that’s why I immediately noticed the changes. Empty pedestals were everywhere. The busts of kings and wizards had gone missing. Brass hooks were sticking out of the walls in places where old paintings and tapestries had once hung.

  Here and there, the doors had been ripped off their hinges. The bare walls were covered with dark soot, bloodstains were still visible on the floor, and the cracks between the tiles were still painted red.

  Now I knew that the palace had not fallen without a fight. Our king had not run taking the treasury with him. He had confronted the invaders, fighting them to the very end.

  I was pushed into a small waiting room with curtained windows and a number of chairs lined along the wall. It was hot and smelly. About a dozen people sat there. Frightened and nervous, they avoided my eyes at all costs, staring blankly at the dirty floor. I took the only empty seat and listened.

  From behind the closed door came the muffled murmur of voices. It appeared that the court session was taking place in the next room. I looked around. Through the slightly opened door to the hallway, I could see guards and servants scurrying to and fro.

  “Anvas!” The guard peered into the room.

  A fat middle-aged man got up and disappeared behind the door. The guard glared menacingly at the visitors. All sat in silence, not daring to raise their eyes. The atmosphere was tense. The small room, like the whole palace, reeked of fear. I felt myself trapped in here.

  Unable to stay idle, I slid from the chair, walked quickly to the door, and pushed it slightly with my shoulder. The visitors hissed angrily behind my back, but I had already pressed my face against the gap, peering into the courtroom.

  A judge sat with his advisers on a high dais draped in red. A huge ceremonial axe and polished steel shield glistened at their feet.

  The accused was before them on his knees, the guard loomed not far behind, sword drawn. Near the window, I saw rows of chairs on which the real witnesses were seated. I did not like it at all.

  I quietly closed the door and looked around. The corridor was filled with bored guards; that path was cut off. I went to the window and carefully pulled back the heavy curtain.

  “You, boy!” an old man croaked indignantly. “Go back to your place! Go back now, or we will all be punished because of you!”

  I clenched my fists. An armoured guard peered into the room.

  “We didn’t do anything,” the old man squeaked. “We told him to go back to his place, but he didn’t listen!”

  The guard grunted and walked up to me. On the way he hit the old man square in the face. His bald head flew back and slammed into the wall. The poor fellow fell to the floor without even uttering a sound.

  I shivered. At least one got what he deserved; justice was dealt quickly and inexorably.

  “Master Grimm”—the guard bowed—“Please return to your place. Our commander is very strict.”

  I had no choice but to return to my seat. The windows were barred anyway.

  “If you need anything, I’m in the hallway.” The guard bowed again. “I have heard how you struck down the Zontrakian mage, sir. I would die to have seen it with my own eyes!”

  There were still people who were on my side. That was a pleasant surprise.

  Time dragged as molasses. I coughed and raised a scented handkerchief to cover my nose. There was a strong smell of urine. It seemed that one of my companions could not stand the strain.

  One by one, they vanished behind the courtroom door, and did not return.

  Finally, I was alone. The familiar guard sneaked in and handed me a cup of water.

  “We’ll get you out, sir!’” he said, leaning close to my ear. “Those bastards would not dare to denounce you. You should know that there are still people loyal to your father in the palace. We will fight, if needed!”

  The guard left, leaving the door open. My heart overflowed with joy.

  “Marcus Grimm!” The bailiff came out of the courtroom, interrupting my musings. “Follow me.”

  Chapter 5

  The courtroom was almost empty. Only the judges, guards and me. A man in a black mantle and white powdered wig came forward.

  “And the last case for today is the case of beating and attempted murder of moneylender Spekul Borkah. The accused is Marcus Grimm, son of Marius Grimm, the former commander of the Palace Guard.” The man bowed to the judges. “The Court is in session.”

  I gasped in surprise. I had not expected such a turn of events.

  “The court calls the victim,” the official declared. “Tell us, please, what happened.”

  With a loud sigh, a man rose from his chair. It was Spekul Borkah himself. Limping, he stumbled across the room and stood in front of the judges, leaning on a stick.

  “Your Excellency,” he said in a trembling voice, “my life here is in mortal danger! And I’m not exaggerating!” Borkah looked at me furtively. “The truth is that the late commander borrowed from me a decent amount of money. He said that he needed the money to outfit his soldiers. I knew, of course, that he needed the money for other purposes, but how could I refuse such a high-ranking officer.”

  “Tell me more,” the judge said. “For what purposes did Commander Marius need the money?”

  The voice of the judge seemed familiar. It was none other than Master Leonard! Now he looked different, wearing a wig and crimson robes. Even his posture was different. I remembered how my father had scolded the man during his inspection of the castle and how brazenly the chief engineer had answered him. It seemed that Master Leonard had decided to get even with me for the sake of my father. Now everything fell into place.

  “It’s no secret that Master Marius was a womanizer and a drunkard,” Borkah stated. “He used to spend money from the budget, which is why his guards wore rags and were forced to buy equipment with their own money.”

  “We heard the rumours,” Master Leonard nodded. “If it were not for his death, he would be standing trial right now together with his son. Please do continue.”

  My blood boiled from such shameless lies. I held my breath, forcing myself to calm down and not to succumb to provocation.

  “Fearing for my own safety, I did not dare to refuse the commander,” the moneylender continued. “However, his wife, also a woman of dubious reputation, seemed to be a person with whom you could negotiate. I gathered all my courage and finally decided to cross the threshold of this terrible house.”

  “Get to the point!” One of the judges cut short the moneylender’s tirade. “Don’t try our patience!”

  “Excuse me, Your Excellency.” The moneylender looked down humbly. “When I came for the money, I was beaten and thrown into the street. That’s all.”

  “Your life was threatened?” Judge Leonard asked.

  “Yes, Your Excellency. This man personally knocked the crap out of me,” Borkah said. “And he threatened to kill me if I ever crossed his path again.”

  Master Leonard gave me a hard look. “Is this
true? Do you acknowledge that you beat the moneylender and refused to pay the debt?”

  “Yes, I hit him a few times, but—” I began.

  But the judge interrupted me. “Did you threaten him?”

  “You could say so,” I agreed, realizing that it was useless to argue.

  “Like father, like son. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!” The judge stood up, rubbing his hands. “Gentlemen, please remember that we are here to fight the ugly beast of corruption! The same corruption that has been devouring our kingdom for hundreds of years.”

  The judges nodded, but without much enthusiasm.

  “The accused is found guilty on all counts.” Master Leonard glared at me triumphantly. “I hereby decree that all the property of the Grimm family, all the servants and livestock, will be confiscated in favour of the victim. Lady Era, the widow of the late Marius Grimm, will have to cover the rest of the debt in the service of the victim.”

  I wanted to grab Leonard’s throat with both hands and squeeze it until his eyes popped out of their sockets. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down.

  The judge continued, “I hereby decree that the accused Marcus Grimm will be subject to public flogging and sent to the galleys for a period of fifteen years.”

  I could not help laughing. This whole thing looked like a farce.

  “For his disrespect of the court,” Leonard quickly added, “Marcus Grimm is sentenced to thirty strokes of the cane. Carry out the sentence immediately!”

  The guard grabbed me by the hair and unceremoniously dragged me to the chopping block. Only now did I realize that this was not a joke. It was for real.

  The executioner pressed me to the block with his knee, pulling my shirt up my back. A flexible bamboo stick appeared in his big fist. He swung it in the air a few times and looked at the judge.

  “Proceed,” Master Leonard nodded. “What are you waiting for?”

  The door opened with a creak, letting a group of people into the courtroom.

  “Stop right now!” someone snapped. “Who gave you the right to judge my disciple?”

  I did not recognize the voice. The executioner was holding me face down on the block, so I could not see my saviour.

  “I must inform you that this young man here just passed all the exams at the Academy of Wizardry and since yesterday is considered a student of mine. Therefore, he cannot be detained and tried by a civil court. I declare your verdict invalid and command you to release him immediately!”

  An invisible hand tossed the executioner to one side.

  I gasped. It was a real wizard! I jumped to my feet and saw Master Nikos accompanied by a tall wizard dressed in a white robe. Behind them I saw the familiar face of the guard who had recently given me a drink. Now I knew whom to thank for saving my life.

  “Come on, Marcus.” The wizard offered me his hand. “I will escort you out.”

  Master Leonard jumped up, his face skewed with rage. “Guards, stop them! Take them all! I’ll show you how to mock justice!”

  The guards rushed forward but were repulsed by an invisible wave that swept through the room.

  Nikos waved his hand, smiling. “Stupid bastard! Go mend the catapults!”

  ✽✽✽

  “You wanted it yourself,” my mother said.

  We could have filled three chests with the stuff that she had prepared for the journey. I stared dumbfounded at the mountain of warm clothing, coats and woollen trousers.

  “Mother, it is very warm in Paara, they hardly see winter,” I said, but she did not budge.

  “Master Nikos has agreed to send the wagon after you, and we can still put this, this and this…” She added a pair of warm blankets and an armful of woollen underclothes to the pile.

  “If I need anything, I’ll buy it there.” This time I decided to stand firm. “All this stuff must stay at home!”

  “I have life experience,” said Mother reproachfully. “But in Paara you’ll be deceived by the very first merchant. And tell me why you need to buy something that we already have!”

  “I will not take anything.” I had to raise my voice. “End of argument!”

  Mother slumped dejectedly on the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “You’re as stubborn as your father,” she sighed. “But even he always listened to me.”

  “Really?” I pretended to be surprised. “I don’t remember him carrying half the house on a campaign.”

  “But all these things are necessary.” My mother was not going to give up that easily.

  “A real warrior needs only a horse, a saddle and weapons,” I said. “Everything else he would get with his own hands.”

  “But you’re not a warrior,” Mother said sadly.

  “Excuse me, madam.” Korn started to pack my books. “Master Marcus is a fine warrior and he is the head of House Grimm. It’s for him to decide. With all due respect …”

  Mother glared menacingly at the squire, but her gaze bounced off his thick skin, like a pea from a stone wall.

  “Besides,” I said, “we’ll be outfitted with everything necessary at the Academy.”

  Mother sprang up from the bed. “You want people to think that we are poor?” she cried. “No, Master Grimm, that will not happen!”

  I frowned. “There will be students much richer than I am. They will laugh at my rags. I will need to earn their respect by other means.”

  Mother’s face darkened. She finally realized that I was right and looked helplessly at the pile of stuff scattered on the floor.

  “What should we do?” she asked dejectedly.

  “I’ll take the money,” I reassured her. “Don’t worry, I’ll manage just fine.”

  ✽✽✽

  Ash and Mash were waiting for me on the porch. Seeing their harsh weather-beaten faces, I smiled. “What a surprise!” I hugged my old friends in turn.

  “Master Nikos was appointed High Sorcerer,” Ash said. “All the scouts are under his command once again. Don’t you worry, lad, no one will notice our absence.”

  “This is just great!” I exclaimed, excited.

  “We will escort you to Paara,” Mash said. “And make sure that nothing happens on the way.”

  The scouts stared sceptically at Fleyr, and at the gilded saddle, decorated with bone and mother of pearl.

  “Such expensive food you have prepared for the wolves,” the old scout said with a chuckle. “What were you thinking?”

  “Me? What else should I do?” I sighed. “I do have another horse. His name is Selphir. You probably remember him from the campaign.”

  “A stupid hulk with a bad temper and excellent digestion?” Ash grinned. “We’re not going to war, laddie. Why do we need such an ogre?”

  The scouts pointed to the hitching post. Three undersized steppe horses stood quietly under the awning melancholically chewing oats.

  “We have chosen for you a good appeaseable creature.” Ash looked pleased. “She eats less and shits less!”

  “Who are those ruffians?” Mother asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. They must be scouts. That explains everything…”

  “Our compliments, madam.” Ash bowed gallantly and pretended to take off an invisible hat. “I’m sorry if we have offended your delicate taste.”

  Mother could not resist and giggled like a little girl. “There’s nothing delicate in my taste,” she confided to the scouts. “I was just imagining my son riding such a sorry nag! He will be a laughing stock at the Academy!”

  “There is not much choice,” Mash shrugged. “It’ll be a long and hard journey. To do this we will need a hardy animal just like this one.”

  “The old man knows what he’s talking about,” Ash agreed enthusiastically. “But don’t you worry, my lady! Once we get to Paara, we will find the most expensive poop factory that money can buy for the young master!”

  Mother laughed again. This time her laughter was cheerful and carefree.

  ✽✽✽

  Korn arranged my little army in the
yard. Our ancestral banners were fluttering on the walls, polished arms and armour glittered in the sun.

  “Only the orchestra is missing!” Ash whispered.

  My mother suppressed laughter and elbowed him in the ribs. “Quiet, you fool! This is an official ceremony.”

  The squires were smiling, squinting against the sun. Every one of them was holding a drawn sword in their right hand and a handful of grain in the left.

  Melvin stepped forward and handed me a cup of wine and a loaf of bread. I took a swallow of wine and broke the loaf in two.

  “We will wait for your return,” the butler said approvingly.

  The squires, as if by command, raised their hands up and showered me with grain. Then they surrounded me on all sides and put the tips of the swords over my head.

  “Let Orvad protect you from harm!” They repeated the blessing thrice.

  I shook their hands and thanked everyone.

  “Art, Peti, Amell, Lokman, Es, Mentor, Korn, Melvin,” I sighed. “I already miss you all! But at the same time, my heart is calm, knowing that you are protecting my home. Serve Lady Era as surely as you have served me. Follow her orders, and remember that you swore allegiance not to one person but to House Grimm!”

  The warriors smiled. The official part of the ceremony was over, and the squires crowded around me, showering me with advice, wishing for my return as soon as possible and warning me not to mess with Paarish whores.

  “I wish I had time to tell you all about the dangers that are lurking out there,” Peti sighed. “Please, young master, beware of pretty Paarish girls! There are cunning witches aplenty among them!”

  “Don’t you worry, laddie,” Mash chuckled. “Our Ash will teach him good!”

  Ash furrowed his brow, but then laughed along with everyone else.

  “It’s time to go.” I hugged my mother. “Please don’t cry. Everything will be just fine. I promise to write you often.”

  Mother wiped her eyes and gave my hand a squeeze.

  ✽✽✽

  The high walls of Lieh disappeared behind our backs, and I was finally able to breathe freely. The huge responsibility that had burdened me lately finally fell from my shoulders. To be the head of the family was not easy, but I had good helpers, always ready to lend a helping hand. My squire Korn was brave and prudent, old Melvin wise and meticulous. Under my mother’s guidance, they could move mountains. I smiled happily.