by Guy Antibes
“Many thanks,” Pol said as he wiped the apple on his dark linen jerkin. He bit into it. Nice and sweet. Pol smiled and savored the moment. He thought back to what Val had said about living day to day. In a sense, that was what this trip was about for him. He wouldn’t worry about his future in the castle and would try to keep the recent darkness in his past from destroying this interlude.
Despite his vow, Pol’s mind drifted to his mother’s talk. Pol’s hand went to the amulet, which he wore underneath his shirt. How could he be from another race? Other than his white-blond hair, he didn’t look different from anyone else. His heart condition made him puny and weak, although he had made the effort to minimize his strength disadvantage.
He had fought and defeated enemies, but not by usual means. Was his magical talent a vestige of centuries-gone ancestors? What had his mother said? Cissert and she were both descendants, and that made Pol more alien than anyone born in the world for a long, long time?
Pol looked at his free hand. It looked normal to him. He shook his head. Maybe the amulet was of magical origin, but he couldn’t quite accept his mother’s words. His discomfort brought a weak laugh out of him.
“My Prince?” Darrol said.
“Nothing, just musing how much I liked the apple,” Pol said. He chided himself for making such a simple lie. If he was going to lie, it should be bigger, bolder, and mean something.
Val had stopped his horse, waiting for Pol to catch up.
“Our pleasant interlude is about to stop. We will ride through that field. Follow me closely as that group of riders pass us by,” Val said.
Pol looked ahead at a tall stand of corn and then at a group of riders. There must have been ten or more in the group. Pol could barely make out the uniforms of North Salvan. Val had insisted that the guards change into civilian clothes after they had left Borstall.
Pol followed Val. Paki and the two guards trailed behind them as Val led them directly off the path at a trot and then plunged into the cornfield at an angle. “No one will see where we entered the cornfield from the road.
Pol looked back and saw only corn. Just a few strides into the field and it appeared that they were transported to a different place. He had never ridden in an environment like this before. Val went slowly, forging a pathway through the rows. He turned suddenly every so often after looking up into the sky.
They reached the end of the field, and Val headed towards another one. They seemed to be moving northwest of the road. After a string of four cornfields, they emerged onto a different road heading southwest and stopped to rest the horses.
“Is this where you intended to be?” Pol said.
Val nodded. “Use your senses and cast them out behind us.”
Following Val’s instructions, Pol closed his eyes and opened them without focusing on his surroundings and tried to feel the surface of the earth the way he did during his time with the army. It took a bit of time, but the cornfields appeared in his mind. He couldn’t reach out to the other road, but he could sense the disruption in the pattern of the cornfields, tracing their route to where they now rested.
“I can’t go out more than three fields.”
Val gave Pol a smirk that was a bit more smile-like. “You will. It takes practice and a bit of growing up.” He addressed the other three in their group who sat in the shade of an oak tree. “We’ll go southwest for another few hours until we reach tonight’s destination.” Val looked at Pol and told him quietly, “Observe your surroundings. Practice increases your range.”
His bodyguard did tell him their excursion was a field trip, not an idle ride through the North Salvan countryside. Once they had mounted after eating, Pol rode right behind Val. If he truly lost focus, his horse would just follow the one ahead. Siggon had taught that to him long ago, saying that fact saved his late friend the considerable embarrassment of veering off the path a few times while Siggon rode in a column of horses.
He saddened at the thought of Siggon and looked sharply at Paki, who hadn’t seemed to have changed with the loss of his father not so long ago. Pol shook his head and looked at the horizon, a band of trees stretching across the road. Bandy Wood, he thought, one of the larger forests in North Salvan. The wood ran over a rocky ridge of hills that ran north and south. The ground had proven unsuitable for cultivation, so it was left as woods for the hunters.
He closed his eyes and then opened them with less focus. He picked up multiple patterns overlaid on the land. Being more relaxed than when they had traveled through the cornfields, Pol could detect a few farmers working their land. There were no cornfields, and he discovered that the cornrows had reduced his range. Now he could sense activity in more directions, even as far as the very edges of Bandy Wood up ahead.
Pol felt the heat of the sun on his fair hair and put on the hat he had stuffed in his jerkin when they rode through the cornfields. Back to his focus, he sensed more colored dots. Horses? Dogs? As he sought out more activities, Pol noticed that his sensory range diminished. He wondered how much Val and Malden could sense. Malden was a full magician. His range must be extensive, Pol thought.
Something tickled his senses to his rear. “Riders coming from behind,” Pol said.
Val nodded. “We’ll move more quickly,” he said, spurring his horse to a gallop.
Pol’s expertise with a horse diminished the faster his mount moved. He fought to control his horse as it jumped ahead to keep up with Val. Suddenly it bolted and sped past Val. Pol had lost control.
He fought with the reins. The horse kept to the road, but Pol could only hold on to keep from being thrown, not having the strength to fight with the reins. His heart began to beat in his ears, and he gasped for breath as his condition sapped what little strength he had.
The horse didn’t stop as it entered into the dappled shadows of Bandy Wood but its hooves began to thud on the softer surface of the forest road. Pol wished there was a lake or a river to slow the horse, but through his physical distress, he realized that was a pattern he might employ. He projected a thickening of the air and the horse began to lose speed and suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, just as Pol fell from his seat to the ground below.
~
Pol woke while his body jerked up and down. Burly arms surrounded him. He blinked his eyes open and turned to look into Darrol Netherfield’s face.
“You feeling better, My Prince?” the guard said.
Pol nodded. “How long have I been asleep?”
“It’s hard to know with the pace that Gasibli fella has been pushing us. An hour, maybe?”
Pol sat up a bit straighter. His breathing seemed normal, but after his spell, as usual, he had lost all his strength. “We’re not on the road.”
“We are not. As soon as we caught up to you, Val took us off the road, and we’ve been threading our way through the trees.”
“Is he awake?” Val called back.
Pol noticed that Val led his horse.
“I am,” Pol said.
“Good. Let’s rest for a bit before we continue on.”
Val quickly found a little meadow. Pol now knew that he could find such things and realized that there were more uses to sensing locations than finding one’s enemy. Darryl helped set Pol down next to a fallen log.
“You can sit here. I’ll go find a stream to water the horses,” Darrol said. He nodded to the other guard, Lirro, and they took all five horses towards a spot that Val pointed out to them.
Pol tried to find the stream, but didn’t know how and gave up. Even that effort seemed to drain his energy a bit.
“Now, what did you do to stop your horse? A spell of some kind?” Val said.
Pol couldn’t detect any accusation in his voice, so he didn’t hide the truth. “I had a breathing attack. I think the horse’s bolting made me too nervous. My horse showed no signs of stopping, and I didn’t have the strength to fight the reins, so I thought that a lake would slow the horse down. I visualized a pattern of thick air like water
, and the horse slowed and then stopped. I think I dropped off the horse as soon as she stopped.”
“You keep finding ways to save yourself, but fainting after every spell leaves you utterly defenseless.”
Pol looked at Val. “I know, but I’d be injured worse if my horse was still out of control.”
Val patted Pol on his head. “Here’s your hat. You did the right thing. I didn’t stop to think you’d have limitations on our ride. I’m sorry, My Prince. I won’t make the mistake again.”
His bodyguard’s contrition surprised Pol. “Maybe I’ll have to ride with someone if we have to gallop. I was fine until we all went too fast.”
“We can do that. I keep underestimating the power your siblings have of influencing their father to send out so many men. Kelso specifically told King Colvin that we were on a riding tour. It’s not as if you were abducted.”
“They are all against me,” Pol said reflexively, but he knew it to be true. Even his mother, in her own way, had abandoned him. “We can return to the castle, now.”
“Is that an order, or an expression of a possible option?” Val said.
Pol considered his words. “A possible option. Can we be safe anywhere?”
Val nodded. He walked across the meadow to the guards and the horses.
Paki sat down next to Pol. “You used magic again, eh? Saved your life. That horse of yours is a lot faster than the rest. None of us could catch up, not even me,” Paki said. Pol was very aware of his friend’s boast. Paki was lighter than any of the other riders, with the exception of Pol. Siggon had been teaching Paki riding skills since his friend had learned to walk.
“Had to,” Pol said, watching Val stomp across the meadow with something in his hand. “I made the air thick. I guess it worked.
Paki nodded. “It did. The horse just slowed right up and stopped. I could see the very end of it. You just dropped out of the saddle.”
“Lucky I didn’t land on my head,” Pol said smiling. “I’m better now.” He got to his feet when Val reached him.
Val spread out a map over the log that Pol had sat against. “We are here. There are five villages in riding distance before sunset.” Val looked at the second guard. “Pick one,” he said.
The guard rubbed his chin and picked the one that was southeast of where they were.
“Good enough for me. We will spend the night here,” Val pointed to a different village closer to Borstall and out of the woods.
“Why didn’t you pick the one the guard chose?” Paki said.
“I was just verifying that our pursuers would likely think we would be heading further east. They probably won’t think to backtrack. It’s not like we are in enemy territory,” Val said.
It sure felt like enemy territory to Pol, but he saw Val’s point. He just showed how to tweak the pattern without magic. Do the unexpected. He had read about the concept before, but this was the first time he had ever actually seen it in practice out in the open in a real situation.
~
Val had Pol and Paki climb up the back stairs to their rooms and had promised to send up some food. Pol collapsed on the bed at the inn after removing his boots, totally exhausted. He hadn’t told anyone that his energy had been completely tapped out by the time they reached the village.
Paki had gone ahead of Pol, and even he was starting to snore. Pol couldn’t go to sleep. His body was out of energy, but his mind kept replaying the events of the last few days in his mind. He knew that his thoughts were muddled, so he tried to focus on one thing. He pulled out the amulet and clutched it in his hand, going over again the conversation with his mother.
He lay on the bed and examined his other hand. It didn’t look any different from any other, but if his mother told him the truth, he had otherworldly blood coursing through his veins.
Pol frowned. He didn’t have anyone to leave the amulet to. In fact, he considered returning it to his mother since she would probably survive him. He wondered if the amulet had been Cissert’s. He would ask his mother when he returned to the castle, whenever that was.
Pol sat up at a knock on the door. He padded over and opened it, revealing Darrol carrying a crude wooden tray with three bowls of food and three tankards.
“Come in,” Pol said.
Darrol put the tray on the small table in the room. “Val thought it would be a good idea if I joined you and stayed until the both of you had finished your food and gone to sleep.”
“Food?” Paki rolled over, rubbing his eyes. “Food!” He jumped off of the bed and pulled up one of the four rickety stools that surrounded the table.
“I thought sleep was what I needed, but I need something else. Is that ale?”
Darrol chuckled. “Ale for you and me and fruit juice for Pol. It’s a bit fermented, My Prince. That’s the way they make it in this village.”
Pol didn’t really want to eat, but after the first two spoonfuls, he discovered that he did have an appetite, after all.
“That was quite a trick with that horse, My Prince,” Darrol said after he had nearly finished his bowl.”
“Trick?” Pol hadn’t mentioned his magic to either Paki or Darrol.
“I knows magic when I see it, I do,” Darrol said. “You did something to that horse. Impressive. That was why you fell off. Any dolt knows that.”
Pol didn’t think that was possible when he started the trip.
“How do you know so much about magic?’
“You’re looking at a former Deftnis acolyte,” Darrol said. “I didn’t stay very long. They want too much book learning, so I only lasted a few years. Learned how to twirl a blade better than most. There’s plenty with the talent at Deftnis. I seen Valiso there, but he had already moved on. I think he still visits the monastery from time to time.”
“He took someone there before the Emperor came to Borstall and returned as my bodyguard.”
Darrol wiped the bowl with a scrap of bread that had originally been on top of the bowl. “He's no ordinary bodyguard. More of a teacher and a minder, if you ask me.”
Pol looked at the guard. He wasn’t the bumpkin that Pol had thought.
“I’m contemplating going to Tesna Monastery. Magician Malden has received a dispensation for me.”
“What's the dispensation for, your tender age?”
Pol nodded.
“Deftnis would suit you better. Life is more than playing with the patterns.”
“You know about patterns?”
Darrol nodded. “I have a tiny bit of talent, truth be told. Not enough to do much more than light a campfire, but enough to earn me a few lessons at Deftnis.
“Does Val know?”
Darrol took a drink to wash down the last of his bread. “He does. That’s one reason he let me come with you.”
“What about the other guard?”
“Lirro’s a good man. Ordinary, stolid, and loyal to Kelso Beastwell. To a fault, in my opinion, but Valiso can trust him. It’s time to tuck you two into bed,” Darrol said. He stacked the empty bowls together and waited for Paki and Pol to finish their drinks. “I’ll be letting you two go to sleep on your own. Lock the door after me.”
“What’s Deftnis? I don’t know anything about monasteries,” Paki said.
“Monasteries are places of learning. Those who do most of the teaching are called monks, and those who are taught are called acolytes. They once had religious significance, but Baccusol monasteries no longer adhere to any set religion.”
“So what’s Deftnis?”
Pol laughed, since he hadn’t actually answered Paki’s question. “Deftnis teaches military skills. It also has a group that teaches healing. Battles and healing sort of go hand-in-hand.”
“I have first-hand experience with that,” Paki said. “There was another you mentioned. Tesna?”
“That one is in South Salvan. It trains magicians.”
“So you’re headed to Tesna?”
Pol nodded. “That’s where Magician Malden would like me to g
o,” Pol said.
“I like Deftnis better. I bet I’d make a better scout going there.”
Pol would like Deftnis better, too, he guessed, if he had any level of the stamina an armsman needed. “Tesna is a better choice for me,” he said. Pol could feel his eyelids drooping a bit. “I’m going to bed.”
Paki jumped up on the bed before Pol. “I’ll beat you to sleep”
~~~
Chapter Thirty-Two
~
BACK ON THE ROAD, Val didn’t take them very far. They headed due south from the village on a road that was barely a farmer’s track. He led them to a clearing in the middle of a thick wood.
“This will do,” Val said.
“Lirro, would you return to the village and get supplies?” He handed Lirro a list.
The guard puzzled over a few of the words, but Darrol helped him interpret Val’s handwriting. He left with a small purse of money.
“Now, let’s sit down and talk about your futures,” Val said.
Pol dreaded these kinds of talks. He had had them with Kelso, Mistress Farthia, and Malden before. They only made him depressed since everyone he talked to would outlive him.
“I talked to them about Deftnis last night, as you requested,” Darrol said.
“Not really.” Pol picked up a stick and began tracing designs in the dirt. “I mean I already know they teach military skills and healing, but I don’t know why, and I don’t know why this applies to me.” Suddenly he felt sorry for himself. “Malden has already arranged a spot at Tesna.”
Val looked away from Pol and then back. “Tesna isn’t the right place for you. It will end up being more of the same environment that you’re struggling with at the castle. There are politics everywhere, but at Tesna, everyone has their own agenda.”
“I can’t fight. You saw me run out of energy on the Taridan border. Military training is wasted on me. I won’t live to use it anyway.”
“You really are a pathetic human being when you feel sorry for yourself,” Val said. His bluntness surprised Pol. “What if you wake up tomorrow and your malady is gone? You’ll be stuck without a plan.”
No one had talked to Pol quite like that before. It made him angry. “Plan? Why should I plan? You said, yourself, that you live from day to day.”