by Mike Shelton
“I have a friend who accidentally took a mixture of tags weed, yellow bark, and grants root, and I need an antidote.”
“Accidentally took?” Kharlia looked skeptical and frowned. “I don’t think anyone accidentally takes that concoction. You know what it does, don’t you?”
Bakari nodded. Before he could say anything else, they heard a loud commotion down the street. The two stood up and peered through the lace-covered window. Down the road, Bakari saw the leather-clad group pushing their way into the homes along the street, apparently searching the houses.
Kharlia turned to Bakari with a fierce gaze in her eyes. She stood only two inches shorter than him. “What have you brought to our village? Who are you?”
Bakari fell back a step at this fiery response. “I am a friend of the Chief Judge. Are you?”
Kharlia opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “I don’t support these rebels, if that’s what you’re asking.” She peeked out the window again, then moved swiftly to her shelves. In a matter of moments, she had gathered up a few packets and jars of herbs and had put them into a satchel.
“Thank you,” Bakari said, reaching toward the bag of herbs. “How much do I owe you?”
Kharlia snatched it back from him with a frown. “You don’t think you’re going to give this to someone by yourself, do you? I’m coming with you.”
Bakari frowned. “I’m thankful for your help, Kharlia, but I need to do this myself. This is too dangerous to take you along. I assure you, I can access the knowledge I need to administer them correctly.”
Before Kharlia could respond, the two of them heard loud voices and banging at the door of the next cottage over. So Bakari took a step toward the bag that Kharlia held.
Kharlia grabbed Bakari’s hand and pulled him toward the back of her cottage. A strange thrill ran through his body at her touch. She picked up another bag in the small hallway and directed him out the back door.
It was dark now, and a breeze blew, but the air was still warm. Within a few dozen steps, they had cleared a small vegetable garden and had entered a narrow dirt trail leading into the nearby trees.
Bakari’s head swirled with activity. The black-clad men began banging on Kharlia’s door and ordering her to open it. Bakari hoped that, once they found her not at home, they would assume she was out helping someone in need. After they jogged down the trail for a bit, the dim lamplight from the village receded, and only a patch of partial moonlight showed through the full trees.
They moved silently around the village toward his horse. Yells from the mercenaries faded into the wind behind them.
“Adi,” Bakari called to his horse a short time later. Adi lifted her head from a tuft of grass with a look of contentment.
Kharlia let Bakari’s hand drop, and he felt disappointment at the loss of her touch. He untied his horse’s rope and returned it to the pack he was carrying. At the same time, he pulled back out his cloak and draped it across his shoulders.
“You are a wizard,” Kharlia said. Her chest still heaved from the exertion of the quick sprint there.
“I am.”
She pointed to the cloak. “Are you an apprentice?”
Bakari shook his head. “Full wizard. Only a level two, though.” Bakari stayed busy with the horse, for he didn’t want to meet her eyes. Then he motioned for Kharlia to tie her two packs to the side of the horse.
“What’s in the other pack?” he asked.
“Personal things. You never know when you will need to leave in a hurry.” Kharlia smiled. And, once again, Bakari was calmed yet intrigued by her demeanor.
Kharlia didn’t seem to want to say anything more about her bag, so Bakari let the subject drop. He jumped up on his horse and looked back down at Kharlia. “I appreciate the help, Kharlia, but you must understand…this is dangerous.”
“You are such a gentleman to worry about me so, Bakari. But those men back there, in the village, looked like the more dangerous option to me.”
Kharlia put her left foot in the stirrup and grabbed Bakari’s offered hand. As she swung her leg over the animal, her full-length cotton dress became tangled for a moment. After getting situated behind Bakari, she hugged his waist with her arms. Bakari proceeded to direct Adi back toward the main road out of town, taking off at a quick gallop. There were only a few hours left to figure out exactly how he would rescue the Chief Judge and administer the antidote.
CHAPTER NINE
Bakari found Kharlia to be a nice traveling companion. Despite the distractions of feeling her sweet breath on the back of his neck and having her arms wrapped around him, he liked that she was talkative, affable, and knowledgeable about many things. Most of all, Bakari was delighted at her love of learning. In this, they quickly shared a deep bond.
“Bak, how did you become a part of the Chief Judge’s party?” Kharlia asked.
“Well, I am a scholar wizard serving in Cassian,” Bakari told her.
“But, aren’t you a little young—no offense—to ride with him?”
Bakari didn’t know how to explain, without sounding like he was boasting, but he trusted Kharlia. “I enjoy a unique ability to remember everything I see or read.”
“Ooh.” Kharlia’s breath came out onto the back of Bakari’s neck. “That is amazing, Bak. I will need to remember not to say anything wrong, or you might bring it back up later.”
Bakari stayed silent. He wasn’t used to talking to girls and didn’t know how to react. Then he felt a light tap on the back of his head.
“Bak, I was kidding.” Kharlia laughed.
“Oh,” Bak said in return. “Sorry, just thinking about the Chief Judge.”
Kharlia breathed in a quick breath. “Oh, I’m sorry. Of course you would be worried about him.”
As Bakari spoke of his dilemma to her, she was quite astonished and disturbed by his report of mercenaries kidnapping and poisoning the Chief Judge.
“So what will you do?” she asked.
“I need to free Roland.” He decided to talk through his plan with her. “He is the most powerful wizard in the group. His raw talent exceeds that of many of the other full wizards. Just don’t tell him I said that, or it will go to his head.”
Kharlia laughed, and once again Bakari found himself pleased at the glee in her voice.
“But, how will that free the Chief Judge? They must have guards on him.”
“If I can sneak up behind where Roland is and untie his hands, he will be free to pick up the Chief Judge and move him. I will need some type of distraction to lead them away from him for a few moments. Once Roland has the Chief Judge, the other wizards will act against the rebel group.”
Kharlia road in silence for a few minutes. Bakari wondered if she had fallen asleep. But then, in a small voice, she said, “I will cause the distraction. Drop me off on the other side of their camp. I will walk in, pretending to be lost and hurt. I should be able to grant you enough time.”
Bakari almost stopped the horse. He turned his head sideways to see her face. “Kharlia, I can’t ask you to do that. These are dangerous men. If they have no compunctions regarding killing the Chief Judge, what would they do to you? I can’t allow it.”
“You can’t allow it?” Kharlia said in a brisk voice. “I will make my own decision of whether I can help the Chief Judge or not, Bakari. I believe in his cause.”
Bakari let out a long breath. He had seen Roland get into many a squabble with a young woman, and he wasn’t wanting to find himself in one now. “I’m sorry if I spoke poorly,” he conceded. “I only meant for you to understand the potential harm that could come. This is not your fight.”
“This is anyone’s fight who wants peace and freedom,” Kharlia said.
Bakari nodded. “You are right, my lady, of course. We only have a few more hours until daylight, and it must be done before then.”
“Why do these men want a king so badly?”
“They think a king will give them prestige. Many of them
want to wield power under a king. They also think it will make this more like other kingdoms, once the barrier fails.” Bak winced over his last remark. He hadn’t meant to let that slip.
“The barrier is failing?”
Bakari breathed in deeply. “Let’s simply say it is weakening. I need to find out more information before I can make a full assessment.”
“So what is so wrong with being like other kingdoms?” Kharlia asked.
“Nothing, I guess.” Bakari thought a moment. “We’ve had good kings and bad kings in the past: kings who brought prosperity and glory to the land and those who brought death and destruction. The judge system keeps that from happening. It balances power.”
Their conversation trailed off after that.
Soon they arrived at the place where Bakari would have to let Kharlia dismount. She hopped off the horse first. Then, when Bakari dismounted and opened his mouth, she pointed a finger at him.
“Bak,” Kharlia interrupted, intruding on his thoughts with a shake of her head, “I know what I’m doing.”
Bakari tightened his jaw. “I know.” He paused. “Just be careful.”
“Of course.” Kharlia smiled, and Bakari noticed for the first time a dimple in her right cheek.
“I only need a few minutes,” Bakari added.
They stood in front of each other for a moment that seemed to stretch into longer. With a sudden step, Kharlia grabbed Bakari in a brief hug, then turned and walked off through the trees.
With one last look in Kharlia’s direction, Bakari jumped back onto his horse and rode it around the edge of the camp to the south side. Sliding off his horse, he tethered her there and motioned for her to stay quiet.
Invoking a simple spell of silence, he walked with careful steps up to the sleeping camp. Through the outline of the dying fire, he saw two guards standing watch; neither seemed to be overly alert as they stood in boredom over the sleeping group.
Moving from tree to tree, he worked his way closer to the sleeping men. He recognized Roland’s form and was happy to see him sitting in the back of the group, leaning against the trunk of a birch tree. His hands were tied behind him. Bakari couldn’t see the Chief Judge and hoped they hadn’t moved him far away.
Bakari snuck up behind Roland and whispered in his friend’s ear. Only Roland’s strict wizard training kept him from crying out in surprise. A small twitch in his neck was the only sign of his surprise.
“Bakari, what are you doing? Where did you go?” Roland whispered, his voice barely audible to Bakari.
“I went for some herbs to help the Chief Judge. He wasn’t given a deadly potion, only a temporary debilitating one. I’m going to untie your hands. Soon there will be a distraction. When that happens, you will have only a few moments to get to the Chief Judge and run with him out of the camp.”
“What distraction?” Roland asked very softly.
“Don’t worry.” Bakari had kept his voice low. A rustle of leaves in a slight breeze helped to hide their conversation.
Roland gave a small laugh. “You say don’t worry? You’ve never been a covert operative type of wizard before, Bak. What do you know about plans?”
Bakari grunted at Roland’s usual pomp. “Just because I haven’t done it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do it.”
As soon as Bakari had finished untying Roland’s hands, voices came from the other side of camp.
“Help!” came Kharlia’s small voice.
Bakari felt his heart beat faster with apprehension for his new friend.
Roland began to move, and Bakari pushed him back down with a touch of his hand on Roland’s head.
“Not yet,” Bakari directed. “And, Roland, you are to save the Chief Judge. That is all. Don’t worry about the fighting or anything else. The others can handle that well enough. Your job is to carry the Chief Judge to safety. Then we will heal him.”
Bakari felt rather than heard Roland’s grunt of frustration. He knew his friend would instead want to jump up and blast every one with an immense show of power.
In mere moments, the two guards moved to intercept Kharlia as she wandered aimlessly into their camp. Their backs were to Bakari and Roland. Bakari held Roland back once more, waiting for more commotion to ensue.
With a few loud words from Kharlia, other mercenaries gathered around her, with their leader coming out in front. He did not look happy at being woken up in the middle of the night.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked his men.
The rest of the Chief Judge’s party woke up now and watched the exchange with interest.
Kharlia suddenly slumped to the ground with a groan and began to cry. The mercenaries were now fully distracted.
“Go,” commanded Bakari to Roland.
Roland rose from the ground and slid sideways behind a copse of birch trees. Then Bakari watched him run around behind a small grove of firs. A strangled sound met Bakari’s ears, then a yell, followed by the uproar of running and shouting.
Roland came around a tree with the Chief Judge hanging over his shoulder, a guard chasing after him.
“This way,” Bakari motioned.
Roland yelled loudly to his fellow wizards, “Onius! Gorn!”
The two wizards turned their heads toward him, as did the rest of the mercenaries. The wizards immediately understood what was happening. They broke their bands, stood up, and faced the mercenaries, their power already gathering. They had only remained where they were for the safety of the Chief Judge. Now that Roland had their leader, they fought back.
More men began chasing after Roland, who now followed Bakari away from the mercenaries. Their pursuit was quicker than Roland could run while carrying the Chief Judge.
Behind them all raced Alli, who had loosed her own bonds. She threw a dagger, catching one man in the side of the neck, then grabbed a branch and swung herself forward, her power accelerating her leap. Her legs grabbed another man by the waist and pulled him down. Twirling around him, she hit him with the hilt of a sword she’d managed to grab.
Another man approached Roland’s back. He lunged for Roland’s legs and took him to the ground, knocking the Chief Judge hard against a tree. Roland stood and brought his hands out in front of him, fire forming in them. But, before it could be released, Alli jumped up onto a nearby tree stump, somersaulted into the air, and came down hard on the mercenary, shoving his face into the dirt. After a quick hit to the head, he fell motionless.
The three young wizards rushed to the Chief Judge’s side. His eyes were open, looking at them, but his body still failed to respond. Hearing noises from the direction of the camp, Bakari jumped up and saw a trail of fire, weaving its way through the trees.
A sudden cry pierced the air over the loud sounds of the battle.
Kharlia! Without thinking, Bakari raced back toward the fighting. One of the mercenaries held the girl with a knife at her throat. Bakari stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her.
“Onius!” Bakari yelled.
Onius turned to the man holding Kharlia, and the man pushed the knife closer to the girl’s skin, drawing a thin line of blood.
“Don’t come any closer, or she dies,” the man said.
“I don’t even know who she is,” Onius said back.
Bakari’s face went pale as he realized that Onius would indeed allow Kharlia to die to save the rest of them.
“She is my friend!” Bakari shouted. “Help her!”
Onius turned to him. “Bakari, the Chief Judge is more important than her. We must get him away and get help. If this buys us time...”
Bakari felt astonished at the counselor’s lack of empathy and tried to explain, “She is the help!” His face now turned red as he became angry, angrier than he could remember ever being. He felt protective of Kharlia. He wasn’t a particularly strong wizard, but hadn’t he told Roland just minutes before that he knew how to do it all? His mind filled with information, and he sifted through it
for a solution, all in the blink of an eye.
Kharlia squeaked, and her dark brown eyes bulged with a pleading look. It was his fault she was here. If anything happened to her, Bakari couldn’t bear it. He closed his eyes to think more clearly.
Bakari heard every sound independently. His mind followed the footfalls of the mercenaries retreating through the forest. He could hear Roland and Alli with the Chief Judge, moving him farther away. Then he heard a bird, a large vulture, that had previously been resting peacefully up in a tree, and a thought came to him.
Bakari reached back inside his mind to a book he’d read once; it was almost a fairy tale. He reached with his mind toward the bird as the character in the book had done and commanded the creature. A loud squawking ensued, but the bird obeyed him. Bakari led it through the air in swift silence toward the mercenary.
The rush of wings and the air blowing against his face consumed him as he became one with the bird. Then, into his mind, the mercenary appeared in front of him. He was a small man from this new point of view. Swooping down, still one with the creature’s mind, Bakari plunged toward the man’s face.
Only moments before being struck, the man glanced up and screamed. The bird, with its large beak and talons, ripped into the man’s face, clawing at him and poking him with its beak. The mercenary dropped his knife, and Kharlia fell away from him. Gorn gathered the girl away, and Onius moved in front of Bakari.
“Bakari!” Onius yelled. “Stop this now!”
Bakari remained with his eyes still closed, pecking the man’s face through his connection with the bird, barely registering Onius’s voice. Bakari was so angry and frustrated that Kharlia had almost been killed that he now lost control of himself within the vulture. The bird’s head turned and stared at Onius.
“Bakari!” Onius raised his voice. “This must stop.”