By Ways Unseen

by Daniel Dydek

  He growled, striking left, right, left, thrust – a feint! Now from the right!

  “You move like a chick-less hen,” Lasserain growled, standing suddenly in the doorway.

  Guntsen lowered his sword and stood as if he had been doing nothing.

  “I’ve not seen a fighter move the way you did,” the mage continued, striding forward; Guntsen backed up a step and jostled a table with a pitcher of water on it. He turned to steady it, but a whisper from Lasserain and it smashed against the opposite wall. “Who is the post today, Guntsen? Do you still cling to the imp you refuse to see as a god?”

  “I’ve quite forgotten Haydren, thank you very much!” Guntsen snapped, casting his sword against the thin mattress upon the floor that served as his cot. In the silence that followed, he tried to catch his breath and hope he hadn’t spoken out loud.

  “Have you indeed?” Lasserain asked quietly. “And who might you want to kill so badly, then, that you bother to sweat?”

  Guntsen wiped his forehead on his sleeve, but did not look at the mage. “You didn’t treat King Burieng this way,” he muttered.

  “I killed the King of Burieng.”

  Guntsen’s eyes lowered, and he sniffed.

  “You know exactly what I can do to you,” Lasserain said, turning and walking away. “Why do you bother?”

  The heavy door slammed, and Guntsen’s shoulders hiccuped. If he ever had the chance, he would not only take his province back, but take Lasserain’s from him as well! That would show him, if he could be alive to witness it.

  *

  A scraping sound came from the hallway, as if someone or something was being dragged toward the cell. Two guards appeared, carrying Geoffrey between them; Wilkins opened the door, and they cast Geoffrey to the floor inside. He hit the straw with a dull thud, clearly unconscious; below his left shoulder, mid-bicep, his arm had been cut off and blood soaked into the stone.

  “You bastard children!” Sarah screamed, leaping up from her sitting position and hurling herself against the cell door. Wilkins had not closed it firmly, and did not expect the viciousness of the sorceress’ attack. She forced it open, crashing into the hallway and pummeling the guards with her fists.

  “Get her back inside!” the walls boomed. The guards grasped her by the wrists and struck her face and stomach until she sagged; they wrestled her back inside the cell as she still bucked against their grip, finally disengaging from her and hurling her against the wall.

  “Get that door shut this time!” the walls echoed once more. Wilkins, stammering and bobbing his head, clanged the door shut and locked it.

  Sarah, sobbing fully now and scrubbing her face with her sleeve, moved over and knelt beside Geoffrey; she turned him over gently. A bag sailed through the bars of the door and struck the floor beside her.

  “You’ll find what you need in there to tend to his wounds,” the walls spoke as the Earl stood in the doorway. Haydren felt a chill run through him; there was something not right about the Earl and the manner in which he appeared before them.

  “Your guide told us everything we wanted to know,” Earl Jgei said. “You will find permanent residence within these walls until my master’s plans are complete. And I may find need of entertainment before then.”

  Without another word, the Earl turned and left. Haydren turned back to Geoffrey as Sarah snatched the bag form the floor and began to rummage through it.

  “Killik gave you that bag,” Haydren noted. “Is that what you spoke to him about the night before we left?”

  “It’s simple healing herbs,” Sarah said, her voice cracking. “And some bandages. I thought we might need them,” she added through gritted teeth.

  She took a mortar and pestle from the bag, as well as several pouches of dried leaves. She took a strip of cloth and bound it tightly on Geoffrey’s arm; the blood flowed a little slower, now, giving her more time to prepare the poultice. She ground together a few different herbs and mixed it together with water from a small skin that was also in the bag. When it was finished, she smeared it on a clean cloth and pressed it against the stump of Geoffrey’s arm. He groaned; Sarah bowed her head and blinked away tears as she tied the cloth around his arm, securing the bandage. She blended a few uncrushed leaves in with the rest of the water, and slowly dripped it into Geoffrey mouth.

  When she had finished, she sat back, pressing her clasped hands against her lips as the moments slipped past. Haydren watched in silent anticipation as well, hardly daring to breathe.

  Finally, Geoffrey groaned once more, turned his head, and opened his eyes. Haydren let out his breath; Sarah smiled, but still wiped away tears. She reached forward and touched his cheek; he blinked, and looked at her.

  “I’m glad that’s you,” he said in a raspy voice. “If Haydren touched me like that, I might have to kill him.”

  His right arm shifted a little, and the stump of his left arm smacked the floor; he groaned, and his head fell back.

  “Careful!” Sarah whispered hoarsely. She moved beside him, placing an arm under his head and helping him to sit up. Geoffrey glanced down at his left arm, and closed his eyes briefly.

  “Oh, right,” he muttered.

  “Geoffrey,” Haydren said quietly, and swallowed. “Julian told the Earl everything. You shouldn’t have—”

  “You can’t blame Julian,” Geoffrey whispered. “This was not his mission, except the Earl gave it to him. Would you stand up to torture for money? I wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t talk too much,” Sarah said. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  “Perhaps, but that poultice you made is incredible,” Geoffrey replied. “I can hardly feel my arm at all, right now.”

  “Something I knew grew in the mountains,” she said.

  Haydren turned away and moved to the door. He had to think of a way to get them out of here. Surely, now, Lasserain would move quickly to finish his plan for Burieng.

  Sarah glanced at Haydren, who stood apart and ignored them, then turned back to Geoffrey. Fresh tears began flowing as she looked at his arm, and into his pained eyes. He could feel his arm, and she knew it. “Geoffrey,” she whispered, low enough that Haydren could not hear her. “Geoffrey, I could have cast a spell down here; I could have done something to get us out before this happened to you.”

  Geoffrey shook his head and smiled at her. “No, Sarah; no cost is too great. Evil can never be used to combat evil. Do not forget your vow when the Roc threatened us; we do not know what betterment might come from this suffering.”

  “What good might come from the pain you suffered?” Sarah gasped, a fresh course of tears flowing.

  “Sarah,” Geoffrey breathed, shaking his head. He gazed at her with a smile. “Beautiful Sarah; if you never use magic again, I would pay any cost.”

  Her smile was confused as she looked at him. “Two months ago, I thought you didn’t want me to use magic because you didn’t want me to be the strong woman I could be. And I know that, right now, I need to be able to not use it. But so many men have just wanted me to sit quietly in a corner and do nothing, letting them do what they thought best…”

  “But strength – or power – and independence are not the same thing,” Geoffrey replied; “nor are they dependent upon one another. I tried to understand you from the beginning: sometimes you were the perfect diplomat – kind, wise, gentle; other times you were a petulant child who brooked no offense.”

  “I don’t know why I do that,” she said, keeping her attention close on him.

  “I thought it was a tick of your frustration, at first,” Geoffrey said. “But every time your attitude changed, you pushed your hair out of your face.”

  “It falls, sometimes,” she said, running a finger behind her ear, though her hair now was still in place.

  “Falls?” Geoffrey asked. “Or is blown out of place?”

  She was silent, only blinking.

  “Sarah, it’s when you open yourself to the wind; it tells you not to be treated in some way or
another, or not to take correction – especially someone telling you not to use it, doesn’t it?”

  More silence.

  “I told Haydren once that we all serve someone,” Geoffrey continued, glancing quickly at the young swordsman. “I don’t want you to serve me, or put me in any kind of position of authority over you unless you completely trust me to be in that kind of a position because you know I would never ask you to do something you shouldn’t do. I don’t want you to serve anyone, or anything that you can’t trust in that same position. And I think you’re realizing that you shouldn’t trust the wind with that position, aren’t you.”

  Sarah smiled, and sighed. “I am.” She cocked her head to the side. “How did you know that? About the wind talking to me?” she asked.

  Geoffrey looked past her again, to Haydren. “How do you think you came back to consciousness, on Jyunta’s walls?” he asked, his eyes coming back to hers.

  “I…I thought…”

  “I ceased your spell, Sarah.”

  She gazed at him, her eyes getting steadily wider. “You can use magic?” she asked, forgetting to keep her voice low.

  “You what?” Haydren said, coming over from the door. “Since when?”

  “Since I was young,” Geoffrey replied; “but I haven’t for many years now.”

  “Wait,” Haydren said, holding up a hand. “So you could have used it at Jyunta?”

  “You could have killed the golem master and kept that entire army out of Jyunta until Haydren got back,” Sarah added.

  “So could have Pladt; he almost did it.”

  “Don’t you—” Haydren jerked a finger at him. “Pladt could still be alive if you had used your abilities!”

  “Sure!” Geoffrey said, struggling to sit upright. “I could have saved him – could have saved everybody. Maybe could have saved my own arm, just now!”

  Haydren swallowed, and cast his gaze downward as Geoffrey continued. “No one needed to die; just use magic, use something you can’t control but loves controlling you. Do you know how many people I have killed with magic? All of my friends, at one time! Remember the Uv Fehn?” he asked, looking at Sarah. “You know the stories; how were they finally defeated?”

  “The King employed a powerful wizard…” she trailed off, suspecting she had heard the story utterly wrong as Geoffrey laughed bitterly.

  “Oh, yes, a powerful wizard indeed,” he said, shaking his head as his eyes began to glisten. “He didn’t need to employ a wizard; it was me. I was preparing as powerful a spell as I thought I could manage – and just when I needed to project the image of the target to the element, I suddenly thought of all my friends around me, and how I wanted to protect them. And instead of victory, a row of thunderbolts tore through them and killed them all.” He leaned back against his good arm with a gasp, unable to hide the tears coursing down his cheeks. Haydren and Sarah only watched in silence for a time. “I saw it coming down the line,” he continued quietly. “One bolt after another, into one body after another, drawing closer; each scream drawing closer; one struck the man next to me – he had been with us for four years. I had eaten dinner with his wife and two children anytime we were in his village. I wanted the next bolt to strike me, waited for it; but the spell passed over me and struck the man to my right. We had been in the Guard together, had known each other…and then it continued down the line, one after another; I tried to stop it, but it had torn my heart so completely from me that I couldn’t muster the authority. I could only mutter the words, and the element ignored me.”

  He fell silent again, still shaking with tears. Finally Sarah laid a hand on his arm and shushed him. “It’s okay, Geoffrey,” she said. “It’s okay; it’s done. You did—” She paused to glance up at Haydren, then back at Geoffrey. “You did the right thing, abandoning your ability; we didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  Geoffrey groaned, and sat forward. He rubbed his face with his hand, now free, and sighed. “I see them in my dreams all the time,” he went on, his voice a little steadier now. “Every time I do, I renew my vow to never meddle with the elements again – they are not for us to try to control.”

  “So can you actually use magic down here, Sarah?” Haydren asked.

  Sarah nodded slowly.

  “But you’ve made a similar vow?”

  Sarah looked down at Geoffrey, smiled, and nodded again more surely.

  Haydren took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to make do somehow,” he said, and sighed. Nothing more assuring than approaching a magic-user with two magic-users who refused to use magic. But they had made it farther than should be expected without that much magical help – unless he counted Melnor. “Perhaps the next time someone comes to that door,” Haydren whispered. “After your attempt at freedom, I believe Wilkins could be easily overpowered.”

  “I wasn’t trying to escape,” Sarah replied, glancing up at him. “I wouldn’t have left Geoffrey here; I just wanted to kill them.”

  Haydren smiled at her. “That can still be useful,” he said.

  A loud, thundering roar broke the silence, sounding like it echoed into the dungeon from outside. There was a great crash, as of a suit of armor falling down a set of stairs. Or, Haydren mused as he glanced toward the door, down five flights of stairs.

  “Hey!” Wilkins shouted, stepping away from the wall and beginning to walk down the hallway. “What are you fellows up to out there?” There was a pause, then: “Hey! You shouldn’t be down here! Who are you?” Wilkins broke off with a cry, then there was silence.

  Haydren turned to his companions, who stared back at him in equal curiosity. Haydren turned back to the cell door as keys rattled down the hall, and footsteps approached. Whatever he might have been expecting, it did not prepare him for the one who stepped in front of their cell door, keys in hand, and a broad smile on his face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHOICES

  “It would be nice to know how this is going to turn out.”

  “Andelen?”

  “Both.”

  “It will turn out as it must, by our choices, theirs, or others.”

  17 Halmfurtung 1320 – Autumn

  “Pladt!” Haydren shouted, not believing he was actually saying the name. “What are you – we thought you were dead!”

  “There’s no time now,” Pladt said, thrusting the key into the lock. In his surprise, Haydren barely noticed a strange quality to Pladt’s voice, similar to Earl Jgei’s though less ominous. The door sprang open; Sarah and Haydren helped Geoffrey to his feet, and the three exited the cell as another thundering boom echoed from outside.

  “What’s going on out there?” Haydren asked.

  Pladt looked sorrowfully at Geoffrey. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you guys out earlier,” he said, “but perhaps I can still help.” He reached out and touched Geoffrey’s arm just above the amputation. Geoffrey closed his eyes and breathed deeply; when he opened his eyes again, he stood free from Sarah and Haydren.

  “That does feel better,” he said, looking at his arm in awe. “When did you—?”

  “I’m so glad to see you,” Haydren said, reaching out to touch his friend’s arm. It may have been a trick of speed as Pladt ducked out of the way, but it seemed almost as if he passed through Haydren’s hand.

  “Not now!” Pladt pleaded. “We have to leave before the castle crashes down around us.”

  Amazed and curious, but hurried along by Pladt, the company ran down the hall and bounded up the stairs. When they entered the stone courtyard, there arose a piercing cry overhead, and the roof of one of the massive towers crashed to the pavement in front of them.

  “Wow, is she angry!” Pladt exclaimed. “Let’s go this way!”

  He led them around the outside of the courtyard; as a military castle, Dubril had no houses or shops – only barracks, smithies, stables, and kitchens. Soldiers were shouting frantically to one another, and archers high in the towers were shooting arrows as fast as they could draw them, but t
he company could not yet see what their target was.

  Then, as they rounded another corner, another shriek grabbed their attention and drew their eyes upward to the streaking form of a blue dragon as it crashed into another tower, sending rock and archers plummeting to the ground.

  “Is that—?”

  “It’s Kaoleyn,” Pladt affirmed. “I didn’t think a few missing eggs would make her so angry. Hopefully I can get you guys out of here alive. The door’s just up ahead; come on!”

  After dashing ahead another several hundred paces, Pladt stopped before a small postern. He drew a key from his pocket and punched it into the lock, then shouldered open the door. He led them down a narrow tunnel, at the end of which was another locked and heavily barred iron door. Opening this, he led them outside into a narrow canyon.

  “What about our weapons?” Haydren asked as he tried to keep up with Pladt along the narrow path.

  “I’ve taken care of that,” Pladt said, not slowing his stride. “They’re well hidden; we just need to get away from the castle.”

  Distracted by the dragon, none of the soldiers who should have been guarding the path were to be seen, though Haydren recognized well-hidden perches all along the route. After running for another several hundred paces, they finally exited into a thick wood. Their path continued down the hill, and they could hear the sound of rushing water below.

  Pladt turned suddenly aside. “Wait out here,” he said, crouching down and creeping into the hollow trunk of a large oak tree. Once inside, he began handing out weapons. Aerithion came first, then Geoffrey’s sword and bow, which Haydren took, and Sarah’s mace. He handed out several bags as well, which had been their supplies. Finally, he backed out of the trunk and stood.