The Deadly Magician (The Memory Stones Series Book 2)

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “I’ll go tell the stables to saddle a horse for us,” she said when she saw the ring.

  “Wait,” Lord Warrell stopped her. He looked at both of the youths.

  “You both need to rest. You both look just a shade this side of death,” he told them candidly.

  “We don’t have time to rest; we have to get back to Stoke,” Coriae emphasized.

  “You can do both,” Warrell interrupted her. “I’ll have the carriage prepared. You can sleep in it for a few hours, and then ride on horseback the rest of the way,” he pointed out.

  “We could do that, I suppose,” Coriae gave the proposal consideration, and agreed.

  “Lorinse, go have the carriage prepared. The two of you, go make yourselves ready,” Warrell set the group in motion.

  “Theus, wait a moment, please. I’d like an additional word with you,” the nobleman surprised Theus as he started to walk out.

  “I just want to tell you that our family is in your debt. We owe you a great deal for this and more. And as you know, we have a great deal of money set aside from the sale of the jewels you delivered. That money will be yours in a few weeks, so I want to advance some to you now, in case you run into any expenses or problems on this journey,” Warrell pulled a heavy leather bag out of his desk, and handed it to Theus.

  “I know you’ll take good care of my daughter while she’s under your protection,” Warrell added, as he placed a hand on Theus’s shoulder and gave a warm smile.

  “She’s shown she can handle a lot; I don’t know that she needs me for much,” Theus struggled to answer as he remained distressed by the revelation of Coriae’s murder of Monsant.

  “Perhaps she needs you for things you don’t realize,” Warrell said wisely. “I sense something.

  “Be careful my boy. We look forward to seeing you back here with both my children soon,” he closed the interview. “Now go get ready for your trip.”

  Twenty minutes later, Theus and Coriae were settled into the back of the Warrell family carriage as it rolled past her parents and Lorinse and out into the street, bound on the first stage of the journey back to Stoke.

  As soon as the carriage was out of sight of the family mansion, Coriae shifted from the seat opposite of Theus to sit next to him. She laid her head upon his shoulder, and softly yawned.

  “Four days ago, I had no hope, but today I can rest easy, thanks to you, my amazing friend,” she said softly. She lifted an arm and draped it across his chest, then began to breath in a soft regular rhythm, as though she had fallen asleep.

  I wish I could rest as easy, knowing what I know now, Theus thought to himself. He closed his eyes and tried to make his weary mind rest. Instead, he saw in his mind’s eye the image of Coriae, standing virtually naked, blood splattered upon her torso and face, in Monsant’s bedroom.

  His eyes popped open, shaken by the image. He couldn’t reconcile it with the sweet girl who was spread upon him, vulnerable and trusting that he would take care of her.

  Weariness was overwhelming, he found. He listened to Coriae breathing. He tentatively raised a hand and stroked her luxurious, dark hair, then closed his own eyes, and fell asleep as well.

  Chapter 21

  “Theus, we’re at an inn. It’s time to switch to the saddle,” Coriae shook him gently awake.

  Theus opened his eyes from his uneven state of sleep. The road had been bumpy in the carriage ride, jolting him partially awake from time to time, but he felt more energy, if not refreshed, for having had the several hours of rest.

  Coriae was sitting beside him still, her back arched as she stretched with her arms raised. Her chest was provocatively forward, though she had no thought of how Theus saw her at that moment, he was sure. She reached over to raise the leather curtain in the window, and Theus saw that it was dark outside, with a lantern visible, hanging on the side of a building.

  They departed from the carriage, gathered their small bundles of belongings, and thanked the servants who had driven the carriage for hours. Theus watched Coriae generously slip some coins into the men’s hands as she stepped away from them.

  Minutes later they were in the saddle of a horse from the inn’s stables, and riding south towards Stoke once more.

  “What should we do to celebrate with Forgon, once he’s freed?” Coriae asked Theus as she sat behind him atop the horse.

  “I know,” she began to answer her own question. “We’ll rent the tent by the Westland River, the one by the Blue Pavillion, and we’ll invite all our friends. We’ll have musicians, and dance until the sun rises!” she laughed softly at the vision she was painting in her own mind.

  “We need to get there first, and then turn over the ring, and then make sure it proves his innocence,” Theus state practically.

  “Oh, party-pooper!” she admonished him. “I’m going to keep planning for the best.” She pressed her lips against the back of his neck.

  They rode on through the night, and changed horses in the morning. Coriae sat up front, as Theus held on to her. Rain began to fall just a half hour after they left the stables with their new horse. Without capes or protection, they were soon drenched and muddy, but they continued on resolutely throughout the day.

  They stopped early in the evening at another inn. By mutual agreement, they went inside and sat by the fire to warm up and dry out as they ate a meal.

  Theus studied Coriae as she sat next to the fire. She looked tired, but the exhaustion on her face did not erase her beauty; it only made her seem more fragile. She was not fragile, Theus knew. He knew not just from the searing memory of her stabbing Monsant, but from his own many and repeated bouts practicing staves and swords with her. There was both mental and physical toughness contained within her lovely façade.

  “You look very handsome in the light from the fireplace,” she happened to say just then, as she turned to look at him. “I’m afraid your natural color has been washed away by the rain, and I’m seeing the ruddy light of the flames, though.

  “Once we get to Stoke, we’ll each go to bed and rest under the blankets for a week!” she smiled. “Once we set Forgon free, that is,” she added.

  “And after that party in the tent,” Theus added.

  “True,” she agreed. “But, there will come a time when we catch up on rest, I promise.”

  Theus smiled, and their bowls of hot stew were delivered by the serving man just then. They spooned the warm nourishment into their mouths, left the inn on a fresh horse and resumed their journey to Stoke.

  They passed through the gates of the capital in the mid-morning, frazzled and exhausted by the lengthy trip. “We’ll go to my home to freshen up, then go to see the advocate and hand over the ring to be used as evidence,” Coriae spoke between yawns, as Theus guided the horse according to her directions.

  Her home was the mansion on the great boulevard of the city, the house where she had helped Theus hide from the guards. Inside the hall, as a servant took the horse, Coriae called another servant to take Theus to a room to be his own.

  “I’ll meet you back here in half an hour, if I can manage to apply enough makeup to hide the bags under my eyes,” Coriae told Theus lightly, as they separated from each other on the second-floor landing.

  “You’re not going to gallantly tell me I need no makeup?” she asked with a laugh, then swatted him on the bottom. “And here, I was just starting to think you really loved me!” she walked up the next flight of stairs, turning on her way to stick her tongue out at him.

  Theus entered the room the servant showed him, a room that was plush and elegant and suitable for guests who were members of the nobility. It was far nicer than any room he had ever stayed in. He went to the private bath and splashed water on his face, then wetted his hair down and tried to make it appear less unruly. He opened his pack of belongings and pulled out clean clothes; Coriae and he had not stopped to change their outfits during the trip.

  Minutes later, he returned to the landing at the top of the stairs, feeling
better, but not fresh. He longed for a quick delivery of the ring to whoever Coriae needed to give it to, and then a return to sleep in the extravagant bed in his room.

  He heard a noise, and turned to see Coriae descended the stairs, looking fresh and vibrant in a bright green dress, her hair elegantly styled. Despite her moaning earlier, she looked as though she had just stepped out of bed and a bath.

  “How did you do that?” Theus couldn’t help but ask.

  “That’s better,” she cooed. “Maybe someday you’ll get to see,” she laughed at him as she reached the landing.

  “You’ll lend me your arm, won’t you, for descending the stairs?” she asked. Theus extended his arm, and they walked down to the ground floor.

  “I’ll need a carriage,” Coriae told both a servant and Theus when they reached the main hall. “I can’t ride a horse like this!” she smiled.

  “So you’re going to give the ring to this person?” Theus asked.

  “Forgon’s advocate,” Coriae explained.

  “And will you get the ring back after the trial?” he asked. He wondered about the mysterious second memory stone that was hidden in the ring, the stone that the first layer of memories had told him about. He’d thought about the promise of white magic that the hidden stone might teach. He had no real idea of why he’d need any such potential powers – unless it would be to battle against Donal and the other black magicians someday. Yet the memory of the memory kept rising to the surface of his consciousness.

  “Oh yes, once the trial is over, I’ll have it back,” she agreed. “Then you and I and Forgon can carry it back to Great Forks.”

  “My lady, a carriage awaits,” her servant opened the front door, and seconds later they were in a carriage, riding through the city of Stoke.

  “That’s the small palace,” Coriae pointed out a large structure to Theus. “The smaller parties and balls are held there quite often.”

  The carriage continued through the traffic on the city streets, then stopped in a busy commercial sector of the city. Coriae opened the door and the two exited the carriage, then climbed steps to visit the advocate that handled Forgon’s interests in his trial. After only a few minutes of exchange between Coriae and the man, she and Theus left the building, and rode in their carriage back to her family’s city home.

  “Let’s meet for dinner, shall we?” Coriae asked once they were inside the house. “We can rest this afternoon, have dinner tonight, and then I’ll show you the city.” They climbed the stairs, and she gave Theus a peck on the cheek, then they separated, and went to their rooms.

  Theus immediately removed his boots and laid down to rest, but five minutes later a maid knocked on his door, and entered with a tray of food. “Her ladyship thought you might want some lunch,” the woman explained before she left Theus alone again.

  He discovered that he was indeed hungry. In short order he had cleaned the contents of the tray away, then laid back.

  What was he to think, he asked himself, as sleep began to overcome him. Coriae and her family had demonstrated affection, trust, and gratitude to him, in ways large, small, and meaningful. The girl was his dream, and she suddenly seemed as enamored of him as he was with her. Yet he still knew that she was hiding the secret of her murder of Monsant, justified though Theus had come to admit to himself it was.

  He fell finally into an uneasy sleep, without dreams, but without full restfulness. When a knock on the door awoke him, he wished for more sleep, but a servant entered the room as though he was entitled to belong.

  “I’m here to attend to your toilet,” the man informed Theus.

  “Is the plumbing broken?” Theus asked in confusion.

  “No, my lord,” the man explained patiently. “I’m here to shave you and cut your hair before dinner with Lady Coriae.”

  “Does my hair need cutting?” Theus asked in wonder, tugging on the uneven edges that hung over his ears and upon his back.

  “Perhaps you and Lady Coriae can discuss that after I cut it?” the man suggested helpfully.

  And so Theus spent time in his bathroom being attended to more personally than he had ever known or suspected was possible. He emerged a half hour later, and was offered a robe to wear.

  “Is this acceptable?” he asked Jens, the servant who attended him.

  “I typically tend to Master Forgon or Lord Warrell when they occupy this home,” Jens explained. “I borrowed this from Master Forgon’s closet for your use.

  “It is a bit old-fashioned and a bit formal, but I thought it was the best choice suitable until the rest of your wardrobe arrives,” Jens explained.

  “I don’t have any other wardrobe,” Theus answered, worried by the complications.

  “I’m sure all of that will be addressed,” Jens said. “Now, shall I lead you to dinner?”

  Jens led him downstairs to a small sitting room, and instructed him to wait for Coriae to arrive.

  She appeared at the door to the room two minutes later, and she stood in the doorway, confident that her appearance would have an impact on Theus. Her hair was intricately braided, and her gown was a combination of sheer white and translucent brown panels that had slits far up her thighs, allowing her legs to show, and a neckline that was not daring, but intriguing. She gave Theus a warm smile.

  “You look very handsome!” she exclaimed as she crossed the sitting room. “Father would approve.”

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Theus answered. His throat was dry and his heart was beating rapidly. No matter what he thought about her morality, he couldn’t deny her beauty, or her courage or willingness to fight.

  “Shall we go to dinner?” she asked, with her arm raised slightly as a signal to Theus.

  He took the hint and offered his arm to her. The doors opened from within, and a musician began to play a soft melody on a lute, standing unobtrusively in a corner of the dining room, as Theus escorted Coriae into the elegant chamber.

  The central table sat with candles for illumination, and two place settings in one corner of the large expanse of its expensive polished surface.

  Theus seated Coriae, and took the other seat for his own. A servant poured water, another poured wine, and a third brought bread, then all the servants except the musician departed.

  “Here’s a toast to Forgon’s freedom,” Coriae raised her glass of wine. It was a very light colored liquid, with barely any tint except for a very light yellow that separated it from the water. It reminded Theus of the bottle of wine he had shared with Torella, in the restaurant in Southsand, the night the magician had frightened them. Coriae and he clinked their glasses together musically, then sipped the wine. It was delicate, far subtler than any drink Theus had ever known before.

  “Here’s a toast to Forgon’s sister, who rode hundreds of miles in less than a week to save his life,” Theus offered a second toast, and they sipped again.

  “And here’s to the friend who Forgon thinks of as almost a brother,” Coriae raised the third toast. “And who seems even closer to me,” she added after they sipped the third taste of the wine.

  A servant came about and poured more wine, then disappeared.

  “I remember when Forgon and I were children – I mean small children,” she told Theus. “We played games in this room when the servants didn’t keep track of us very well. We’d play king of the mountain, on top of the dining room table,” she grinned. “And the servants would be so mad when they saw out footprints on the woodwork!”

  Theus laughed as he imagined the sight of the two toddlers playing on the furniture.

  The first course of the dinner was served by the servants.

  “Use the outside fork,” Coriae said helpfully, in a quiet voice. Theus appreciated the advice and followed it.

  “My parents like to come here in the spring,” Coriae commented. “You’ll enjoy all the festivals and balls that are thrown in the city in the spring season. We might even get to go to the palace; we’ll have to see how th
ey feel about the outcome of the trial.”

  The pair ate on and drank on and talked on. The distance that Theus had put between the two of them shrank as he enjoyed the intimate meal with Coriae, and fell under the allure of her beauty and her charm.

  When the meal ended, they stood up.

  “I’ve got one more thing for you tonight,” Coriae told him. “It’s a surprise. Let’s go,” she told him.

  He offered his arm, and they walked out to the front hall. At her direction, he picked up a large leather bag that was surprisingly light in weight, and they walked out the door, then strolled along the street, among a steady stream of other pedestrians.

  The streets were lined with mature trees, whose wintery, leafless limbs didn’t block any of the light from the oil lamps that burned at every corner. Coriae turned at one corner, then stopped in front of a pair of double doors. Theus looked at her with a question in his eyes, until he heard the faint sound of wooden swords striking one another, and he grinned in delight.

  “Yes, it’s the armory Forgon and I practice in when we stay in Stoke!” she grinned. “And you’re carrying our practice clothes. Shall we go in?”

  They hurried in, drawing stares for their elegant clothing, but they quickly changed outfits and met on the practice pads. “Let’s practice swords first, and then staves,” Coriae suggested. “That way I’ll feel like a winner when I beat you in our final matches of the evening!” she laughed mischievously.

  They found practice weapons, then found an empty mat, and set to play, sparring ferociously back and forth, Theus ultimately winning each time they bothered to keep track. After working up a sweat, they moved to the section of the armory where the staves were practiced. There were hardly any other sparring partners in the room, and they playfully fought across the room, not staying confined to their own practice mat. They were more evenly matched, and Coriae refused to let them stop until she had swept her staff low to knock Theus’s feet out from beneath him.

  “Okay, we can finish now!” she said as she stood over him. “It’s good to finish on a high note,” she laughed.