by Mike Shelton
“You realize you now speak treason.” The captain motioned for some of his men to lift the prisoner up to his feet. The captain took a step back so as not to appear diminished in size next to the sizable rebel.
The captain turned to Alli. “Battle Wizard Apprentice, what should be his punishment?”
The captain’s attention surprised Alli. She wondered if Gorn had put him up to this—another one of his tests for her. Shifting her feet, she pulled the cloth band from her head, wet with the sweat of fighting. Then she leaned over slightly and shook her black hair out, loosening it from the nape of her neck.
“You want my advice?”
The captain nodded his head.
She scanned the buildings and saw some of the townspeople edging out of their doors. At least a few of these families were fatherless after today. And this man in front of her was one of the leaders of the opposition.
“Do you have a family?” Alli asked the rebel. A murmur of surprise rippled from the crowd.
“What does that have to do with anything?” one of the men asked.
The captain hushed him with a raised hand.
“Do you?” she asked again.
“No. Wife died in the desert.”
All stood in silence except for the constant rustling of wind around the stone buildings. Alli took two steps toward the rebel leader, putting her hands on her hips, over her leather shirt.
“Then you shall join her today,” she said. Having delivered her verdict, she strode away. Her throat was parched. She needed some water.
The captain called two men forward to take the rebel leader out behind one of the buildings for execution.
Alli reached the crude water well. She sat down on its smooth, stone edge and dipped in the bucket that hung from a rope for a drink. The water felt good going over her parched lips. Oh, to be back in the Elvyn Forest or to travel along the Dunn River. She tried to make these memories cool her down.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes momentarily. This blasted heat was infuriating. When she opened them again, a young boy stood in front of her, the same boy she had saved from the battle earlier. He was not more than five or six. His dark hair, peppered with sand, hung in his eyes. Those brown eyes, sitting deep in his darkening face, begged for her attention.
“I want to be a battle wizard like you.” The young boy stood with his chest puffed up.
“Oh, you do, huh?” Alli leaned forward. “Why is that?”
“Cause I want to kill the bad guys.” He stomped his foot to emphasize the point.
“It’s not all about killing.” Alli peered behind the boy and saw Gorn approaching.
“It’s not?”
“Oh no, you have to practice a lot, eat healthy, and do what people tell you to do.” With this, she glanced up at her mentor and gave him a smile.
“Oh.” The boy seemed to be thinking it over. “I don’t like it when people tell me what to do.”
Alli and Gorn laughed.
“Neither do I.” Alli stood up and tussled the boy’s hair.
The boy’s mother came up to him. “I’m sorry—again. I can’t keep track of him: always scampering around.”
“That’s all right. He told me how he wants to be a battle wizard.”
“Oh, he did?” She looked down lovingly at her son. “Ever since you arrived yesterday, he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you. Pardon me for saying, but aren’t you too young to be a battle wizard?”
Alli’s face reddened slightly, but before she might say anything in anger, Gorn stepped in.
“She may still be an apprentice, ma’am, but she is one of the most powerful battle wizards in all of Alaris.”
Alli raised her eyebrows at him.
“Sometimes we forget that pure wizard power doesn’t have anything to do with age. She stopped this battle today and did it without losing any more innocent people.”
It was a rare day when Gorn praised her so.
“That’s what I want to do, Mama, help the in…the inno…the…” The young boy was having a hard time saying the word innocent. “Good people,” he said, his ears turning red.
“Well, then start doing your chores and eating healthy,” Alli said to the boy. His mother led him away with a smile.
Gorn turned to Alli. “I’m sorry about what I said before. There has never been anyone like you. Well, there are a few others like you also—a new generation of apprentices that seem to exhibit extreme talent. We, the wizards at the Citadel, are not sure how to handle you.”
“Wow, quite an admission, coming from such a great wizard.” Alli flashed a large smile at him. “Maybe there is hope for you yet.”
“Now, despite the apology, what you did back there, with the white flame—”
“I know. I know. It’s dangerous, and I shouldn’t do things like that. But, Gorn, it was the only way to end this infantile conflict. Fewer died this way than fighting until the last man falls. You might think I reacted without thinking, but I didn’t. I thought about it, and it made sense. I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“The right thing to do is not always the best thing to do.” Gorn pulled a pail from the well and lifted a waterskin from his side. His stomach rumbled, and he ran his hand over it.
“Hungry?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. But, yes, I am. I don’t see how you can do all that fighting and expend so much energy without getting hungry. You need to gain some weight. You are too thin to fight all day like this.”
“You are the one tiring. I am doing fine.” Alli stood with hands on her hips.
Gorn laughed and motioned for Alli to follow him. “Allison Stenos, you might very well be one of the most dangerous people I know. One minute, you are comfortably ordering a man’s execution; the next, you are sitting with a young boy and giving him advice. You wield mercy as quickly as you dispense justice. You are going to be extremely difficult for a future husband to figure out.”
Alli grew serious and stopped. She put her small hand on Gorn’s arm and stopped him. “Gorn, don’t ever think my swift justice is comfortable. Don’t think I like killing or deciding to take the life of a war criminal. Don’t make me into a monster for dispensing justice.”
Gorn took a step back, and fear flashed in his eyes for a brief moment. “Alli, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that you are complicated to understand. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
Alli relaxed. “Two apologies in one day? I’m beginning to think you are getting soft in your old age.”
“Ouch.”
“Now, let’s go find you a good meal.” She pushed him forward and headed toward their camp on the edge of town.
“Now, that’s something I can understand.”
“You’d better hurry and take your fill. It’s a long road back to Cassian. The Chief Judge will want a report as soon as possible.”
CHAPTER TWO
In the middle of a small practice yard inside the Chief Judge’s castle, in the capital city of Cassian, Roland Tyre danced around his opponent and flashed quick smiles to the sidelines—all to the delight of his many female onlookers. Their squeals and cheers motivated the sixteen-year-old more than did his instructors.
Brushing his blond hair out of his eyes, Roland parried the sword of his opponent, one of the more seasoned guards in the castle, and beat him back a few feet. He gazed up at the crowd with his dark blue, penetrating eyes and noticed one of the more lovely girls wiggling her fingers at him in a friendly wave. He pursed his lips at her in a mock kiss, sending ripples of giggles through that clique of teenage girls.
It was a warm summer day, and Roland was getting hot and thirsty. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down the sides of his handsome face and square chin. Then his opponent swept toward him with a fierce blow. Roland jumped up into the air—higher than a normal man should be able to—and followed this with a quick wave of his hand. The guard opened his eyes wide in astonishment as his sword seemed to leave
his hand of its own volition, flying upward, and then crashed to the dirt.
“That’s not fair.” The guard reached down to grab his sword.
But Roland put his foot down on the blade. “War is not fair.”
“What do you grasp of war or battles?” the seasoned guard sneered. “You are going to be a counselor wizard.”
Roland’s jaw clenched. The guard had hit a sore spot “I know that if I need to fight, I will use everything at my disposal to win.”
“There is no honor in what you did, apprentice.” Onius Neeland, a thin, older man with long, graying hair, approached the pair. “Yes, in a real battle, you may need to use all of your resources. But, in practice, with someone who is helping you learn, you should restrain yourself.”
“I don’t need lectures, Onius,” Roland snapped as he removed his foot from the guard’s sword. “And I don’t need any more practice today. I was hot and wanted a drink, so I ended the fight.”
“You should apologize.”
Roland cringed inside. Onius Neeland could be so infuriating with his sense of honor and patience. Roland stared into the older man’s blue eyes. Being a wizard slowed his aging so that, even though he was close to eighty, Onius looked like he was in his fifties. Onius, a third-level counselor wizard, had been guiding judges for a generation before Roland was even born.
Continuing to put on a show for his spectators, Roland bowed deeply to the guard and, in his most gracious voice, said, “My dear good man, I apologize for any slight I have given thee. My intentions were not to offend. I’m afraid that, with the hot weather and the looks of the beautiful damsels upon me, my thinking became irrational this day.” He bent down with a flourish, picked up the dirtied sword, and handed it reverently to the guard.
“No offense taken, Sir,” the guard said with a forced smile. He knew to tread lightly around the young wizard apprentice.
Roland turned and bowed again to the ladies, making sure he gave a special wink to the one who had waved at him so nicely earlier. Hopefully, he could meet her later that evening in a corner of the town square for a few kisses.
Then Onius pulled Roland off the field, moving toward the kitchen. “Well done,” he said in a mocking voice.
“Oh, Onius, don’t be so stiff. You’re letting your age get the better of you. I was only having fun out there.”
“Your magic is not something to have fun with, Roland. All wizards have a responsibility that needs to be taken seriously.”
“Now you sound like our stuffy Chief Judge.” Roland rolled his blue eyes upward, toward the castle. “All about duty and responsibility.”
“Chief Judge Daymian Khouri is a good man—better than most of us.” Onius stopped and glared down at Roland. His tall, thin frame still stood a few inches above the growing youth’s, but Roland had grown tall in the last year.
“I know he is good and honorable and responsible, but maybe, if he tolerated more fun, the people would relate to him more and not be wanting a king instead.”
Onius seemed to grow serious and surveyed the area before saying in a lowered voice, “You mustn’t talk about that in the open, Roland. You should appreciate—as much as anyone—what a touchy subject that is right now. Things will work out for the best.”
Roland considered Onius with suspicion. “You know how it’s going to work out, do you, Onius? I haven’t run across that power yet.”
Onius opened his eyes wide at this implication, his gray eyebrows rising on his wrinkled forehead. “I don’t know what you mean, Roland. Now, move it. You will need to learn to be more responsible in your training before you can figure out the doings of the government of Alaris.”
Roland pouted. “I was only having fun out there,” he said under his breath.
“Roland!” roared Onius.
Shaking his head to get the sweaty hair off his neck and out of his face, Roland felt a flash of anger. “I would take some responsibility if you gave me something interesting to do, Onius. Sitting around and reading about history, judges, and negotiations is tedious.” He barely controlled the urge to stomp his foot. “You and the Council at the Citadel know I’m more powerful than any other apprentice. Besides skill I have learned as a counselor I also have strengths as a battle and scholar wizard. Raise me from an apprentice and treat me as a full wizard, and I might show some responsibility.”
A servant came out of the kitchen then, saw the two wizards arguing, and with a small yelp, turned and ran back inside. The arguments of Roland and his mentor were notorious in the castle.
Roland toppled forward as a swat of air smacked his backside. “Ouch. Why did you do that?”
“Because you are acting like a spoiled child, Roland.” Onius shook his bony finger at him. “Do you know why the Wizard Council hasn’t raised you to a full wizard yet? It is exactly because of what you just said. You think you possess all of this power, and you think you deserve those titles and responsibilities and that everyone loves you and swoons over you. When you can get your head on straight, use your powers responsibly, show some humility, and accomplish something of note, you might earn the right to move from apprentice to a level-one wizard. Great things could be in store for you, Roland; you do have potential. But you need to figure out what you want soon. Changes are coming.”
“What do you mean changes?” Roland asked.
Onius closed his mouth tight, as if he feared saying too much. “Things are happening in the kingdom, Roland, if you haven’t noticed, and you might not have much time to straighten yourself out.”
Roland hung his head low for a moment, feeling actually surprised at this outburst from the usually even-tempered wizard. Something was bothering his mentor of late. He was more uptight than normal.
What Onius had said, about taking responsibility, made sense. But Roland couldn’t change who he was. The power was so strong in himself he didn’t know how to handle it sometimes. It was a part of him, like his arms or legs or ears. None of the other wizards understood. Maybe though—just maybe he did need to find something good to accomplish. He made a mental note to find something to work on that would show Onius he was ready to be a full wizard.
Onius stood, glaring down at him, clearly waiting for a response.
Roland lifted his head in a slow and deliberate motion, his eyes growing big. The corners of his mouth turned upward, and he began to laugh.
“And, what is so funny now, my spoiled apprentice?” Onius forced a smile.
“You used your magic to spank me. I’ve never seen you lose your temper so. It’s actually quite funny.”
Onius joined Roland in barking out a laugh at the situation..
After a moment, the young apprentice wizard glanced around and, much to his dismay, saw that his gaggle of girls was gone. He frowned for a second, until he thought of one of the cook’s helpers, a finely shaped, dark-haired girl only slightly younger than himself. He smiled again.
Saying a farewell to Onius, Roland walked through one of the back doors of the castle and into the hot kitchen. Responsibility could wait until the next day.
He grabbed some freshly baked bread off of the large wooden counter in the middle of the warm kitchen. Fetching a tall cup of ale for himself to go with the bread, he was disappointed to learn that only the cook, a large woman older than his mother, tended the ovens that afternoon. So he headed off to his room to change and relax before heading out to the city to find the girl from the practice yard. She had such a nice smile!
Passing by the Chief Judge’s chambers on his way to his own made Roland rethink the conversation with Onius. So he decided that, before going to town, he would go to the library and ask Bak about the history of wizards and where he actually fit in.
* * *
Inside the Chief Judge’s chambers sat Daymian Khouri himself. Always amazed at the amount of paperwork needing to be done to oversee the other judges and the people of Alaris, he shook his head to clear it for a few more minutes.
There were four oth
er judges, spread throughout the land. The people democratically voted for all five judges, with the Chief Judge being voted on by the other judges. They kept the laws of Alaris along with support from the captains of the armies and the constables of the smaller cities. But there never seemed to be an end to the petty squabbling. Sometimes he wondered if he had made a difference. He had been in Cassian now for seven years, three of those as Chief Judge.
“Sir, do you need anything else tonight?” His head steward had stepped into the room, without Daymian noticing.
“No. I will be retiring soon. Please leave a message for my wife. I will be done within the hour.”
The steward left, and Daymian rose from the padded chair. He stretched his tall, tired back and ran his hands down his long, thin sideburns, ending at his short, brown beard. The white speckles in his once black hair stood out in contrast with his light brown skin. His back hurt more now than when he was younger. Being a large man, he didn’t like to be crouched down in the small office chairs for hours on end. But that seemed to be happening more in recent days.
He walked over to a window. It was still light outside, though the sun had just set behind the farms and fields to the west. A few lamps in nearby homes began to show as the summer twilight settled in. The pink sky reflected off the Corwan River to the east, forming a colorful ribbon, running from the Dunn River in the northeast, then back southwest to join it again near Corwan. The Corwan River supplied all the water for the city’s needs.
The city of Cassian was as old as they had histories for, but it had only been the capital of Alaris for the past one hundred fifty years, ever since the barrier had gone up around Alaris and the new government system of judges had been enacted. When the old king and government had been replaced by the system of judges, the capital was moved from Whalen, near the wizards’ Citadel, to Cassian, a beautiful and peaceful city in the middle of Alaris. Daymian had worked hard to minimize the poor and beggars. And, though crime would never be totally eradicated, he felt proud of all his accomplishments during his time as a lower judge in Orr and now as Chief Judge of the land.