by Guy Antibes
~~~
CHAPTER FOUR
~
“IT’S BEAUTIFUL,” FESSANO SAID, admiring the gem’s glow in his hand. “I can feel its power. I can see it has changed you, but there’s something else. What happened when you retrieved it? Did it come from a wizard?”
Restella didn’t want to tell him about the half-wit or admit to the guilt that she felt about seizing the stone.
“Come now. I’ve found out a bit more by asking around if any of them knew of events in the village. I’ll share what I know if you’ll tell me the story.”
She looked into his eyes and found no guile. Fessano always treated her as she wished her father had. “I came across an old crone. No, she’s not that old. An older woman living by herself, just outside the village. She has some power, she admitted as such. The scout from Walkington said she is the healer for the village; midwife and all the rest. Anyway, I confronted her about the stone. She said the village half-wit found it. She knew enough not to touch the stone.”
Fessano nodded his head. “Half-wit, you say? A half-wit with magical power? Only a wizard could unlock the power in the stone.”
“He did that,” Restella said. “The boy looked like he was ten or twelve, more of an animal than a human. Filthy and feral.” She shivered with disgust.
Fessano laughed. “You thought that up while you rode back from Heron’s Pond.”
Restella grinned, as she only would for the wizard. “I wish I did, but if you doubt me, there are witnesses. The boy defined his decision as giving the Moonstone to me or eating the dinner that the witch was about to cook.”
“He could have had both!” Fessano said.
She nodded. “I had eleven armed men with me and that might have influenced him to give up the stone.” She shrugged. “It didn’t matter. He gave up the stone, but a strange thing happened. As I took it from his hand, I felt a flash of light— of power, really—and then I fainted for a moment. The stone shrank in size.”
“A binding of some kind, I can tell. The stone affected you with some of its power and now look at you! Taller and stronger.” Fessano closed his eyes and ran his hand up and down, still facing Restella. “Yes, a binding, yet it isn’t complete. I told you that the holders of the stone were physically transformed. Do you feel him? A faint pulling to the north or anything?”
Restella shook her head. “Nothing. I did leave a few gold sovereigns as payment.”
“Not close to the value of the Moonstone, but a fortune for a villager.”
“I thought so. What do I need to know about this binding?” Restella said.
“He has power. I don’t know how much, but enough to have inadvertently bound you to the stone, probably along with him. His power changed you and created the link. It will either break or get stronger the next time you both touch the stone together. You don’t feel anything?”
She closed her eyes, imitating Fessano, and concentrated. Nothing.
“Perhaps you have nothing to worry about, except this remarkable change in your appearance, if the boy stays in the village the rest of his life.”
“What did your research tell you?” Restella said. Could he tell her more about the effects of the Moonstone?
“The noble couple fled from Serytar on Zarron eighteen years ago. This was not long after the Emperor of Dakkor rose to the throne and began to exercise his power. The Duke and his wife both had magical talent. There were being pursued, but no record exists of the details. They had asked for sanctuary in Valetan and were granted such as soon as they arrived in a small port to the north. They never made it to Beckondale.”
“What does that have to do with the Moonstone?”
“The woman was pregnant and from a brief description, the talisman is on the table and it bound the man to the woman, increasing the physical power of both. Evidently not enough to keep them from being murdered. Although my source didn’t admit to the boy’s description, I’d say that the half-wit is eighteen years old and of noble Serytar blood.”
“That filthy thing? I don’t believe it.”
Fessano raised his eyebrows. “If your eyes and ears didn’t show you the truth, then look at you today. You must be three inches taller and you have a more powerful, more, dare I say, muscular look about you.”
“That suits me. It’s what I’ve prayed to the gods for. I’m going to train to be a warrior-princess.”
Fessano rose from his chair, picking up the stone. “I imagine he’s still in the north. I wonder what he’s thinking about all of this?” He tossed the stone to Restella. “What are you going to do with that? Give it to your father? I can touch it, but the binding keeps me from tapping into any of its powers other than to make it glow. I know you have no Affinity to the nexus.”
She shook her head and wrinkled her face. “I’m going to mount it in the pommel of a new sword built just for me. I’ll want to use its power when I fight.”
Fessano grunted and shook his head. “And who may I ask are you going to fight? Valetan is currently at peace and Beckondale Castle is the site of dances and balls, not generals and talk of war.”
“You know the history of Besseth. We’ve always been embroiled in conflict one way or another. The Oringians are always attacking our eastern borders. We’ve continually fought unrest among the northwestern dukes. There is plenty of opportunity to work in the army.” Restella smiled and left Fessano, looking out at the heat shimmer over the roofs of the capital city. Summer had come early, it seemed.
~
Teenaged youths gathered at the well in the market square of Heron’s Pond. Lotto stood with his fists tightly clenched. A dark haired, well-built opponent stood with anger in his eyes.
“You flaunted your nakedness to Hester, my betrothed, at the pond yesterday.” Lotto remembered his name—Banno.
“I fell asleep after bathing. It’s been done often enough. My clothes were dirty, so I washed them and waited for them to dry in the sun. The girls woke me with their giggling.”
“Girls?” another boy said.
“There were three of them.” Lotto shrugged and tightened and loosened his fists. “Look I don’t want to get into any fights. I’m sorry. I apologize. There was no harm done.”
Banno glared at him. “No harm? When she looks at me after we’re wed, your image may well creep into her mind.”
Lotto had to repress a grin. “No. Not me. I’m just a scrawny little worm compared to you.”
His opponent took a step forward. Lotto had grown even more last night. He stood inches taller than Banno.
“Well, I’m still scrawny… and I’m a worm.” He pointed out.
A pair of hands pushed Lotto towards Banno, who punched Lotto in the chest.
Lotto looked back. “That’s not fair!” He turned around and suffered another blow to his jaw. He’d never really felt anger before. Lotto had learned to ignore all of the taunts and ill treatment when he was smaller and not as aware. He gritted his teeth and curled his fist again. Banno sneered, and then Lotto hit him square in the nose.
Banno’s eyes widened as blood poured down from his nose and then they rolled up as he fell backwards into the dirt. At that point, the rest of the boys began to hit and kick Lotto until men began to run out of the nearby inn and a few shops to stop the fighting. Lotto rose first and stood over the rest of the boys. His face felt puffy and sore. He tenderly moved his jaw. None of his assailants escaped some injury, but Lotto won the award for most bruises, at least it felt that way.
The men helped Banno to his feet. He shot an angry look towards Lotto as they helped him to his house in the village. In a few minutes, Lotto stood looking down into the eyes of angry men, including the Piffero, the village elder and the innkeeper.
“Come with me,” he said. Lotto felt his elbows grabbed by two of the men, steering him towards the inn. They pushed him down harder than they need have. The common room for the inn seemed much darker than in the evenings when Lotto, in his former form, peeked through the t
iny-paned windows in the evenings, hoping to see a fight or the singing of songs. He enjoyed them equally, then. Now Lotto didn’t know what he liked or what he didn’t. He took that thought back. He didn’t like being slammed down into a wooden chair and interrogated.
“I only defended myself,” Lotto said. “Banno started it.”
“No,” one of the men said. “You started it, displaying yourself for all the world to see. I’m Hester’s father.”
“How did everyone find out about my nap?” Lotto said. He didn’t think the girls would talk, but what did he know about girls? Nothing.
“Daisy told her sister, who told her mother. Once that happened, it quickly became common knowledge. You know village life, or do you?”
“I’ve lived here all my life, you know that!”
Piffero snorted. “We’ve never laid eyes on you until yesterday when you came prancing into town with Jessie, the town witch. Did she conjure you up?”
“No. I’m Lotto, the town half-wit? Remember? I’ve spent my life rummaging around your garbage, Piffero” He looked into the eyes of the innkeeper.
“An older brother, perhaps, but little Lotto is this high.” Piffero put his hand out below his shoulders. “You’re taller than I am.”
Lotto sighed. “I found a gem. The princess called it a Moonstone. All I know is that I touched it and my life changed. When the princess came and took it from my hand, I passed out. I woke the next morning, remembering things that I could never remember before. I grew taller. I acquired a taste for cleanliness and that’s why I went to the pond to clean myself off. The princess left some money in exchange for the gem and I used it to buy some new clothes.” His clothes didn’t look so new anymore. He looked down at the rips and tears in his new shirt and pants.
“You remember the noble woman in the village a few weeks ago. A man canvassed the village the week before and brought the larger group through. They did go into Jessie’s cottage followed by Lotto,” one of the men said. “Enough of us talked to some of the men who escorted the woman. She sought a gem of some kind. At least the boy tells that much of the truth.”
“Witchcraft. They were all a glamor—a spell to delude us all that this creature is Lotto. The poor boy is probably buried in a shallow grave in the woods. Let’s go see what Jessie has to say about all of this,” Piffero swept from the inn. “Bring him.”
Lotto didn’t need to be dragged to the cottage. It was his home, but they dragged him anyway.
The group grew into twenty villagers standing at Jessie’s doorstep. Lotto didn’t like the way the innkeeper kept ranting on about conjuration and spells. The crowd reacted sympathetically to his anger.
One of the men ran to break down Jessie’s door, but she opened it before he could, so he stumbled his way into her cottage.
“What’s this?” she said, her face twisted with indignation. Lotto had never seen the old lady so angry. She didn’t look so old anymore.
“This thing that you have raised from the depths of hell, that’s what’s wrong. He showed himself to our young women. You can imagine what that might have led to,” Piffero said, his face red with anger.
“I can. Absolutely nothing. Lotto still doesn’t know much about those things in his current state.”
“Which you put him in. I think you killed little Lotto and used his soul to create this monster!”
Jessie put her hands on her hips. “Monster?” She put her lips close to Piffero’s ear, but Lotto could hear every word. “Is this the way I get paid back for curing you of a certain illness and not telling your wife about it?”
“Witch! She just tried to lay a spell on me!” Piffero attacked Jessie. “Burn the place down with them in it!” Torches came from the growing crowd and were thrown into the cottage. Lotto and Jessie struggled, but were thrown back into the cottage as everything item from Jessie’s yard was piled up at her door, blocking their exit.
Lotto grabbed the coins on the table and Jessie threw whatever liquid she had on the growing flames.
“We’ll have to leave out the back,” she said, as a large rock tore a hole in her waxed-paper front windows followed by another torch. She gathered whatever she could and led Lotto to a wardrobe in her tiny bedroom. Lotto could feel the heat build in the cottage.
“Help me with this.” She pushed on wardrobe and both of them quickly moved it out of the way. She kicked on the plaster and it easily broke through. Lotto could see his belongings stacked at the back of his lean-to. Escape led through his little shack.
He grabbed the two silver boot buckles and the silken rag, all that was left of his parents as they scrambled though his wretched home. They ran to the road and crossed it into the forest while villagers watched the cottage burn in the front.
~~~
CHAPTER FIVE
~
RESTELLA COULD HEAR HER FATHER, King Goleto Beecher, ruler of the kingdom of Valetan, laughing in his study. She had sent a note announcing her arrival and the purpose of her visit. She fought off her anger by jamming her eyes shut and trying to calm herself down. He hadn’t seen her since she had arrived back from retrieving the Moonstone. Wouldn’t he be surprised? Her new look would wipe that smile right off of his face.
She paused before she knocked. She wanted to lead Valetan’s armies and being angry with the king wouldn’t advance her cause. She forced a smile on her face, took a deep breath and felt better. Why did a smile in a time of crisis change her attitude? Fessano had told her that and it irked her that her mentor was correct most of the time.
A deep breath, an exhale, another smile and then she rapped her knuckles on the polished oak.
“Come in, Restella,” she could hear the humor in her father’s voice.
“Hello, father,” she said as she entered and stood before him, wearing mannish traveling clothes. She enjoyed his mouth forming a silent ‘O’. “I’ve gone on a little trip and it has done wonders for my constitution.”
“I’ve been in consultation with my wizard, but he didn’t prepare me for your new appearance.” He rose from his massive desk and walked across the thick rug that helped deaden the echoes in his stone-walled study. “You don’t have anything in those shoes, do you?”
Restella gave her father a half-smile and slipped off her shoes. She still stood nearly tall enough to look him in the eye. “I’m stronger, too.”
“Moonstone. Have you got it?” He held out his hand and as he grasped the gem and closed his eyes. They opened and he shook his head. “I don’t feel a thing. Fessano told me I wouldn’t. He said you were bound to the Serytaran wizard.”
“I don’t feel any sort of bond, but Fessano says one is there.” She shrugged. “He’s not a wizard, he’s a disgusting, feral creature.” Restella couldn’t resist making a distasteful face.
The king gave her a dark look. “Not a nice thing to say, daughter.”
“I think his name was Lot or something. I don’t remember and he was the village half-wit. The thing lived in a little shack on the side of a witches’ cottage.” Restella put up her hand. “She’s a good witch. She acted as the village healer.”
King Goleto nodded and returned the stone. “So you think your transformation along with that bauble entitles you to be the Chief General of my armies? I think not, Restella.”
“There have been warrior-princesses before.” She had to fight off pouting in front of her father. She had to act tough and be tough. She raised her chin, concentrating on acting strong.
“And they trained for it. You know nothing of war craft, nothing of weaponry and, even more importantly, nothing of command. I will do this for you, my dear. I will let you train with soldiers. I will let you talk to my generals and their officers. You can be a fly on the wall on any war councils, but there aren’t any in this time of peace. Prepare, my daughter. Prepare and show me what you’ve got when the time comes. Let’s see if this larger, stronger body of yours is capable. Fessano said that you may already be bound to a noble… this village half
-wit. That’s good enough for me, for now. I can use that as an excuse to put off your many suitors. I will tell you that there are many more than you may think. Now give your father a hug.”
Restella couldn’t believe her father’s words. She knew he wouldn’t agree to her demand to command, but she got what she wanted… permission to train without fearing marriage. For the first time, she wished the stupid little villager up in Heron’s Pond well. She couldn’t restrain a smile as her father hugged her and she hugged him back hard enough to cause him to wince just a bit. He was a better man than she had thought and that brought an unexpected tear of joy.
~
Lotto led Jessie through the dark forest by holding tightly to her hand until they dropped to the soft grasses in a little moon-lit clearing, far to the south of Heron’s Pond.
“What was that spell? They couldn’t see us after we left my lean-to.”
Jessie laughed. “I just about died doing that. That’s why you had to carry me a league through the forest.”
“I thought you had fainted from the excitement, like when the princess showed up.”
Jessie laughed again. “Then, I fainted from shock. Armed men at my doorstep and a princess demanding your little bauble? It was more than I could bear.” Lotto enjoyed seeing her smile in the moonlight.
“So you really are a witch.”
“A very impotent one, I’m afraid,” she said.
Lotto could feel her eyes on him. “You’re looking at me funny.”
“I never saw it before, but you have a great deal of power, Lotto. Have you ever tried to do anything with it? The amount of power that you have is called Affinity. The power comes from the earth, the nexus. You have a lot of Affinity, therefore you can do magic.”
“No. I don’t like magic.”
“You don’t like me?” Jessie said.