C. Dale Brittain_Wizard of Yurt 04

by The Witch;the Cathedral

  She pulled back as though almost frightened of me. In the uncertain candlelight her eyes looked gray instead of amethyst. I made myself loosen my fingers from her shoulders. "He's been in town all week," she said.. "Haven't you felt his presence?"

  I put my forehead on my fists, feeling like a fool. A wizard who had resisted my best spells to find him seemed to be transparently obvious to a witch. I stopped myself from asking Theodora why she had not told me about him. I had not asked her.

  I forced myself to look up. "Where is he right now?" I judged how devastated I must look by Theodora's expression.

  She put out a hand and touched my face. "I don't know where he is, but I can help you look for him."

  Might it be the old magician I thought I had warned away? Someone that destitute might have been forced by hunger to sell even his tattered old book of spells if Norbert had offered him enough. Maybe, and I clenched my jaw at the thought, just as he had persuaded Theodora to teach him a little fire magic he had persuaded some wizard to teach him how to summon invisible and even demonic creatures.

  "Not demonic," I said. "They're not demons."

  "How do you know?" I didn't realize until she spoke that I had said it aloud.

  I pulled her toward me. "I don't."

  She started kissing my face, my cheeks, my eyes. In a moment I thought that she was doing a remarkably good job of making me forget my fears. "I'm afraid I haven't been entirely frank with you," I said, pulling back. "You already know that I came here to find the source of the magical apparitions here in the city. The mayor didn't send for me, however; the dean of the cathedral did."

  This did not seem to strike her as a particularly startling revelation. "Maybe you haven't been able to find the other wizard because he's afraid of your powers and is deliberately hiding from you," she said, "whereas it never occurred to him he had to shield his mind from a woman."

  "Well, then," I said, trying to regain my good humor, "if you can help me find him, maybe I can make sure he doesn't summon any more invisible creatures to bother you."

  "Come on," she said, jumping to her feet. "We'll look for him now."

  But Theodora and I were unable to locate the wizard or magician. She could find his mind quite easily but not actually touch it, so she had no information on his exact location. I could not find him at all.

  "You don't sense him?" she said in frustration. "You don't find him right—there? Are you sure you're using the right words of your Hidden Language?"

  "Maybe witches are just better at finding other people than wizards are," I said, equally frustrated. "You found me long before I found you." I was using discovery spells powerful enough that I doubted I could have shielded against them myself, school spells that should have sliced straight through the old magic of earth and herbs, without the slightest result.

  "Let's not stand here being irritated any longer," Theodora said with a sudden smile, taking my arm. Market day was finishing, and we had been pushing through the jammed streets on our unsuccessful search. "Let's walk outside the walls and think about something completely different. Then if he thinks he's safe and lets his guard down, we'll have him."

  In the weeks I had known Theodora, the season had passed from spring to summer. The early wildflowers were over, but the flowers that bloomed in the high grasses of summer were crowding toward the sky. While we normally had the Romneys' old campground to ourselves, today because of all the people in town for market the area was scattered with carts and tents. Even market stalls had spilled out from the crowded streets.

  She settled herself among the sun-baked blades and I flopped beside her, pulling her down so that her head was pillowed on my shoulder. It was very easy like this not to think about the wizard. The late afternoon sun cast shadows across Theodora's face. She had unfastened the neck of her bodice, and with my free hand I stroked the side of her neck, then the line of her collar bone.

  She smiled up at me through a veil of nut-brown hair. I wondered what she would do if my hand kept going. While wondering I started to kiss her and she kissed back, pressing herself close against me. Her fingers caressed my face, then slipped lightly across my chest and down my side and hip. Once again, it seemed, events were happening faster than I could plan or control them, and once again I seemed about to have a remarkably interesting series of experiences.

  I drew back to catch my breath and look into the amethyst eyes so close to mine. There was no hesitation there, only affection. "You know," I said, "nothing like this has happened to me since— Well, not for longer than I can really say." Yurt was much too small a kingdom for private romantic interludes, and, besides, for close to twenty years I had been in love with the queen. I started kissing Theodora again.

  This time she drew back, a smile flickering on her lips. "This isn't exactly the most private place in the kingdom."

  I sat up abruptly, distracted and pulling bits of grass out of my beard. She was quite right. Although lying down we were hidden from view, several groups of people were walking or standing within twenty yards of us.

  "Come on," I said, standing up and holding out a hand for her. I didn't know where we were going, but I did know I had never been so excited in my life.

  Theodora straightened her skirt and rose. She took my hand and led me purposefully. Having trouble focusing on anything but her, I staggered along as well as I could.

  She took a short-cut between two large silken tents. Although there were voices all around us, the narrow space between the tents was sheltered from view. I clasped Theodora to me and kissed her face, her neck, her shoulders, murmuring endearments I had not realized I knew. My blood was rushing through my head so fast I felt half blind.

  Then I could feel her shoulders shaking, and I pulled myself away in alarm, incoherent pleadings frozen on my lips. But she was laughing. "Do you just not like privacy?"

  "This is private!"

  "Until someone else decides to take the same short-cut. Come with me; I told you I knew where to go."

  Once again she led me by the hand, away from the market stalls, the tents, and the people. I passed my free hand over my brow. It felt fevered, in spite of the breeze dancing around us.

  We walked a mile toward a small grove of trees, at the edge of which black­ berry bushes created a nearly impenetrable tangle. Theodora had started to pull long, thorned stalks back to make a path when I remembered that I was a wizard and flew both of us up and over the brambles.

  Beyond the briars enormous trees stood tall and still. Very little underbrush flourished in their shade. Theodora kept on walking. The grove felt permeated with magic, the same wild mix of unfocused magic that could have concealed any number of spells as in the valley of the Cranky Saint back home in Yurt. But I had no attention to give to spells.

  "No one comes here," Theodora said. The trees opened out suddenly, and a spring bubbled out of the ground in the center of an emerald stretch of grass. I saw that someone had built a little springhouse, but the stonework looked ancient. Beyond the spring, looking out of place, was a jagged boulder twenty feet high. "My father knew these woods," she continued, "and he used to bring me here to practice climbing when I was very small."

  I was not interested in her youthful climbing experiences. I turned her toward me. "Is this then finally private enough for you?"

  She gave me a long look from beneath her lashes. "I should certainly think so," she said with a smile, and I took her in my arms at last.

  V

  Afterwards we lay on the soft grass and watched the sun turn red beyond the trees. I felt happier than I ever had in my life. "Will you marry me?"

  Theodora had been lying with her head on my chest. Now she sat up and scrambled around to face me. For a second she seemed almost alarmed, then she smiled, although somewhat tentatively. "This seems an odd time to ask!"

  "I mean it. I'm just sorry I didn't ask you before."

  She lay down beside me again, one arm across me and her lips grazing mine as we talked.
"But everyone knows wizards don't marry."

  I was getting tired of hearing this. "Don't you know I love you, Theodora? This isn't just a pleasant interlude during an extended visit to town. I don't want to go on unless you're beside me."

  Her amethyst eyes again looked troubled, but then she smiled. "Aren't you going to have trouble explaining this in Yurt? No king wants to have a Royal Witch alongside his Royal Wizard."

  "It won't be a problem. I should have told you this long ago. When I left Yurt, I resigned as Royal Wizard."

  "But what will you do?" she asked in what sounded like genuine distress.

  "I thought we could have a caravan like the Romneys. If an old magician can make a living doing magic tricks at fairs, we should certainly be able to as well—after all, our magic is a lot better!"

  She was silent for a moment, and I could sense a tension in her that I had not expected at what seemed to me a delightful proposal. But in a few seconds she relaxed and smiled.

  "Let me give you my eagle ring, then," I said, encouraged, and started tugging at it.

  She forestalled me with a hand on mine. "I can't wear a wizard's ring that's too big for me!" she said with her usual amused look. "Besides, I already have a magic ring of my own. What I have from you is much more valuable than any ring. Come on! We'd better get back to the city soon, and it won't be fun scrambling through the briars once it gets dark."

  With clothes neatly arranged and hair smoothed, we walked through the silent trees like a decorous couple coming home from an innocent ramble. Once again I flew us over the briars. Outside the woods the breeze found us, cool now that the sun was setting. A mile away, the last of the sunlight glittered on the cathedral towers. I put my arms around Theodora and kissed her thoroughly. Her firm, slim body in my arms seemed like a gift: not mine by right, but given to me.

  "You still haven't said you'd marry me," I said, smiling down at her.

  "Isn't a woman supposed to have a little time to consider a proposal?" she said with a teasing look. "After all, it seems that if I accept you I'll be accepting a caravan and a pony."

  "We can work something out," I said comfortably as we strolled back toward the city. "We could have a donkey or a horse instead of a pony."

  It was nearly dark by the time we reached Theodora's house. She paused with her key in the lock. "Well, good-night."

  "What do you mean, good-night? I can't leave you now!"

  She stretched up to kiss me. "Your friend the dean will be horrified if you spend the night with a witch."

  I hated to leave her, but she had a point. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," I said and turned away quickly before the desire to go inside with her became overwhelming.

  Whistling, hands in my pockets, I walked back toward the cathedral. It was only as I reached Joachim's door that I realized that, for the first time in weeks, we had not arranged where and when to meet the next day.

  A loud knocking woke me in the middle of the night. I had been happily dreaming of Theodora, and it took me a few seconds to realize where I was. The knocking was at the outside door, and in a moment I heard it open, letting in the sound of rain. There was rapid conversation, too low for me to understand, although I could recognize one of the voices as Joachim's.

  There was a confused sound of further voices, the banging of box lids, rapid steps, and then the slamming of the door. The house was now totally silent. I lay tense for a moment, wondering if the monster had returned to the cathedral tower. But Joachim was highly unlikely to go face a magical apparition without the wizard he had brought in especially to deal with it. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

  When I awoke several hours later the house was still silent, although I could hear or rather feel the heavy booming of the organ from the cathedral. Thinking it was a little late for early service and that I had never heard the bells, I dressed quickly and uneasily. When I went into the kitchen, the fire was cold. I found the tinder to boil some water and looked around for the bread. While I was rummaging through the cupboards, Joachim's silent servant came in.

  "What's happening?" I asked, wondering if he would even answer me. "Where's the dean gone?"

  The servant turned his eyes toward me, not with Joachim's piercing look but with something close, as though he had been trying to emulate it. On the surface he looked very sober, but there was a look of relief underneath; maybe, I thought, he had finally confessed his youthful indiscretions to the dean. He spoke for the first time since I met him. "The bishop is dead."

  "Oh," I said, and then, "I'm very sorry to hear that." This then explained the sudden summons to the dean in the middle of the night. The water I had put on the hearth was close to boiling, and I realized I was standing with a loaf in my hand. "Is it all right if I make myself some breakfast?"

  The servant did not speak again. He nodded gravely and left the room. I consumed tea and toast rapidly and stepped out into the normally quiet street.

  It was now thick with priests, most of them sheltering under umbrellas against the continuing rain. They went in and out of the houses, in and out of the side door of the cathedral, and gathered in little knots to talk. I could usually keep myself dry against the rain with magic, but out of respect for the dead bishop I let the rain fall on my head as I hurried down the street and into the cathedral.

  The inside of the church had been transformed. The altar cloths were gone from all the altars, and the crucifixes had been draped in black. The bouquets of flowers which normally clustered in front of the statues of the saints were also gone, and no candles burned. The organ, which I had heard increasingly clearly as I came down the street, played deeply and solemnly.

  As I hesitated in the doorway, I heard a confusion of voices and footsteps in the street. I stepped quickly into a side aisle as a small procession came in. They paused briefly to remove the cover from the burden they were carrying, then proceeded toward the high altar. It was the bishop.

  I did my best to make myself invisible without actually employing magic. Shielded by a pillar, I watched the priests arrange the bishop's body in front of the altar. He looked in death both older and smaller than I remembered. He was dressed in his full formal vestments; the brilliant scarlet made the only spot of color in the dark church. A tall white and gold hat covered his bald head. His eyes were closed peacefully, and his hands were folded across his pastoral staff. As banks of candles sprang to light around him, I could see the flash of reflected light from the bishop's ruby ring.

  The organ kept playing its dirge. When the priests began to kneel, I slipped from behind my pillar and darted back out into daylight.

  As soon as I was away from the cathedral I set up the spell to keep off the rain. I walked toward Theodora's house with my head down, thinking that now Joachim really might become bishop.

  The news of the bishop's death had already spread through the city. I heard it discussed at open windows and where people sheltered under broad eaves. I wondered what Theodora would think of the event; the bishop had held office here since long before she was born.

  But when I knocked on her door there was no answer. I peered through the window into the dark interior, seeing nothing, and rattled the door handle to find it locked. I told myself that she had probably gone around to some of the garment retailers to pick up or drop off embroidery, but I felt strangely uneasy.

  When I discovered that virtually all of the shops in the city were closed, I became even more concerned. Shades were pulled, and black ribbon hung on the doors. In a cathedral city, I thought, the death of the bishop must be one of the major events of the generation. The inns were still open, but I did not spot Theodora there either. Thinking that she must have gone out and then returned home when she found the shops shut, and that I had simply missed her in the streets, I hurried back again to her house. But it was still dark and silent; my knocking did not even gain a response from the cat.

  "This is silly," I told myself, trying to stem an irrational panic. "We just didn't happen to
plan where to meet, and now with the bishop's death she's probably out looking for me." Leaning against her doorway, I closed my eyes and stepped into the flow of magic.

  My mind raced across the hundreds of minds in the streets around me, not quite touching them, moving so lightly they would never know I was there. Most of the minds were unfamiliar, and I slid across them without pausing. Some were people I had come to know more or less well: Prince Lucas, one of the innkeepers, a few of the cathedral priests.

  I was startled in brushing the edge of Joachim's servant's mind to find it a dense turmoil of thoughts. Somehow I had assumed his thoughts would be as silent as his voice. For a second I even wondered if he might be the evil wizard, but I dismissed this at once; if I could actually touch a wizard's mind, there was no way he could conceal his magic from me. I did not find Joachim or most of the other priests, but this was not surprising. Deep in prayer, their minds would have entered the supernatural realm of the saints and thus be beyond the reach of my magic.

  But I also did not find Theodora. My mind slid back to my body, and I opened my eyes. There was no emotion in the deep silent tunnels of magic, but once back to myself I felt a sharp fear. Where could she be? Within the square mile or so of the city, she should not have been able to hide from me unless she were cloaking her mind thoroughly. This meant that she had either left the city and was already a good distance away or else was deliberately hiding from me.

  I hurried back to the cathedral through the wet and slippery streets. All activity on the construction site had ceased. The tall front doors of the church stood open. A few townspeople were going up the stairs to them, almost shyly. None of them was Theodora. I joined them, and we entered the dim church and walked the length of the nave to where the bishop lay before the altar, surrounded by candles. After a brief pause and a brief dip of the head, the townspeople quietly walked out the front doors again, but I slipped around to the side entrance.