The next morning, after breakfast, when they walked out with their bags, the innkeeper followed them out. Any reservations he had about what he’d been told the previous evening evaporated as the carpet lifted off the roof and settled before Cringle and Yletta. They stepped on and Cringle tied them together again before they once more lifted off. The innkeeper’s face was a study in amazement.
“I don’t think he believed you last night,” Yletta yelled against the wind.
“He does now.” Cringle replied.
Another uneventful day passed as they flew rapidly over the countryside. It had been many years since Yletta had been this way but she managed to recognised some of the places they flew over and saw many changes. More cleared land, more buildings in the villages and towns and more traffic on the roads as they neared the city. Eventually they were circling over Mandoran and Cringle headed for the Palace, flying over all the defensive walls to land in the inner courtyard, right in front of the main doors. Guards sprang forwards and fired their crossbows but Cringle had expected they would and the bolts tumbled harmlessly away.
“Hold your fire. We’ve come to speak with Kenjida. I’m Arwhon’s Servant.”
The firing ceased and one of the guards stepped forward.
“Is that a magic carpet?”
Cringle thought to tease the man but decided against it.
“It’s merely a carpet, I’m the Mage who supplies the magic.”
He picked the man up with bonds of air and turned him around to face the doors before releasing him.
“Please inform Kenjida that Cringle is here with Yletta, Tarsega’s wife and my mother.”
Immediately on hearing this there was a murmur of recognition and the soldiers of the guard went down onto one knee. Yletta motioned for them to stand.
“There is no need to bow to me. Thank you for your respect but I’m no longer a queen. Kenjida is your ruler now and has been for a long time. We just came here to talk with him.”
The man bowed again then ran off. Before long they were escorted into the hall to be greeted by Kenjida himself. The King looked flustered, gazing from Yletta to Cringle and back again. He appeared a little uncertain at the sight of Yletta standing before him, someone he’d never thought to see again. She was the mother of the rightful ruler of all Cheshwon, Cringle, who stood beside her. Was Cringle going to claim the throne? Should he just have them both killed right now? Cringle addressed him.
“Greetings Kenjida. We know all about your plotting and agreements with Furoshiko. As you have no doubt heard by now, he’s dead and Nyaka now rules Northern Cheshwon. All of the family in the north had a meeting before Arwhon and Shiri left. We included them as their council is invaluable. We considered what to do about you and your position here as King. There were many solutions offered, including your death but I counselled to allow you to remain as ruler of Southern Cheshwon. Neither I nor my mother desire to rule and your people seem to think you’re a good King. So you stay.”
Kenjida relaxed, his fears diminished and invited them to dine with him. They accepted.
“My man mentioned a flying carpet. Where did you find such a wondrous thing?”
Cringle didn’t reply, merely pointed to a rug in front of the King. It rose into the air and hovered there before settling back to the ground. Kenjida looked alarmed, his gaze going from the rug to Cringle and back again.
“Yes Kenjida, I’m a Mage. I control Airmagic, which allows me to move things around by changing air density and such. The carpets aren’t magic. I am.”
Kenjida stepped back, re-evaluating the person before him. He didn’t look anything more than a half breed Cheshwon native but he was obviously a man of great power.
Over dinner that night Cringle, with Yletta, who was once Queen, clarified Kenjida’s position.
“Nyaka’s sons, Chenko and Zoran are being groomed to succeed both you and Nyaka as rulers of Cheshwon. I know you have no children at the moment, which makes that succession all the easier. It will be good for Cheshwon to have Chenko and Zoran ruling one day and they are of the Royal line. If I hear of any problems, I’ll personally return here to deal with you. I’ll probably bring Arwhon too if I have to and he’s the one you should fear, a Fire Mage of great power. It was he who destroyed the Empress Martine and her Q’Herindam Mage.”
Kenjida had heard of Arwhon’s exploits. It was hard to reconcile the mild young man who’d stayed in the palace with the stories he’d heard but he’d seen the odd flash of restrained power and it was enough to decide him.
“Thank you Cringle, nephew. You’re very fair. I know you could have taken over the rule of Southern Cheshwon and I thank you for leaving it with me. I take it you’re going somewhere.”
“South Kenjida, over the ocean to the east of the Inland Sea. There are people there I need to relate my exploits to.”
Kenjida nodded, his relief palpable.
“Stay in the palace as long as you want to. The servants will bring you whatever you need.”
“Thank you Kenjida but we plan to leave in the morning.”
Inwardly Kenjida breathed a sigh of relief but outwardly showed no change of emotion. He didn’t like scrutiny. Of any sort.
In the morning, Cringle and Yletta once more stepped onto their carpet and after tying themselves together, waved goodbye to Kenjida and the hastily assembled honour guard as they rose into the air and flew off to the south. Cringle planned to stop for the evening somewhere on the coast and set off early the following morning to cross the Turquoise Sea where it met the Wyalonian Ocean. It was a dangerous manoeuvre, as it was a very long trip and there was nowhere to set down if he became tired or his magic waned. Cringle realised he was lucky he could draw his Power from the very air itself unlike Shiri and Arwhon, who took it from the earth.
He and Yletta travelled all day, setting down for a lunch break on a grassy hilltop with a curious circle of stones. Cringle felt emanations from them and warned Yletta against exploring. He’d seen the obelisk on Dome Rock dissolve as magic flowed from it. One never knew what could be triggered where magic was involved. Soon they were speeding onward over thickly forested country. Cheshwon seemed to have vast areas of woods and forests in these southern parts. As dusk was falling the coastline came into view with the broad blue of the sea disappearing off into the darkening distance. When they drew closer to the coast, a small fishing village came into view, the tiny ramshackle collection of buildings and boats growing larger as they descended. Soon they were sitting in the village’s only inn, a small rundown building with a taproom and two guest rooms.
They found themselves the centre of attention, openly being stared at by a motley collection of fishermen and fish wives, sitting at a trestle tables and drinking the local ale. Maybe it was Yletta’s blond hair and blue eyes, extremely unusual for Cheshwon.
“Do you get many people staying here?” Cringle asked the wizened and gnarled owner behind the plank bar.
“Nah, jes fisher folk when there’s a storm or a tinker what comes ta sell his stuff. Yer the first for a couple a months.”
Cringle hoped the room was clean. Luckily, despite appearances, it was. Later, when he heard a rain squall passing over, he was also glad of the shelter.
Morning dawned clear and bright and after an early breakfast, Cringle unrolled the carpet and he and Yletta readied themselves before lifting off. They left the surprise of the locals behind them and turned south. Hour after hour they sped steadily over the ocean beneath, rough with its wind whipped waves. To their left was the deep blue of the Wyalonian Ocean while to their right, off in the distance, was the lighter blue of the shallower Turquoise Sea. ‘It’s pretty awe inspiring to be up here like this’, Cringle thought to himself. The day wore on and Yletta gave him something to eat and drink. They had a pan for the necessary, as there was nowhere to set down and they were confined to the carpet. Eventually the light started to dim and stars appeared in the darkening sky with still no land in sight. There woul
d be no moon until after midnight and then only one of them for a while until the second came up as a thin crescent. Cringle slowed their pace down for a moment and yelled over his shoulder.
“We have to keep going. I’ve no idea for how long. If the flying becomes erratic, prod me quickly. I’d hate to turn upside down or land in the sea.”
Yletta looked grim.
“Me too son. Don’t worry, you aren’t going to sleep on my watch.”
True to her word, Yletta prodded Cringle at regular intervals. He found himself staying alert, waiting for the next uncomfortable prodding. It was annoying and irritating but it was a far better option than ditching in the ocean. Later, there was a bit of a scare for both of them. It was so dark, Cringle had no reference points and without realising what was occurring, he’d gradually descended toward the water. It was only the spray from a wave crest hitting him in the face which saved them going for a swim. After that he was extremely careful and kept his eyes wide open for any indication of whitecaps in the starlight.
The first moon rose, a curving sickle of light but it was some illumination at least and Cringle looked down and saw they were still over water. By the time the second moon rose and added its wan light to that of the first, Cringle was tiring. He could hardly keep his eyes open in spite of Yletta’s prodding. Even drawing Power from the air he sped through didn’t seem to help his weariness. Arwhon had told him of his own ability to exist solely from the Power he drew as a Fire Mage but Cringle didn’t have that ability. He started to nod off. An extremely hard dig in the ribs woke him and he felt Yletta close the gap between them.
“Come on son. You have to stay awake otherwise you’ll kill me.”
What a thing to say but the guilt helped and his head cleared somewhat. It was starting to get light over to their left where the sun would rise and they could make out the level horizon of the ocean. Cringle was starting to become worried. Maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew. If they didn’t come to land soon they could be in deep trouble. Another hour passed and Cringle was rapidly flagging, almost asleep as he struggled to keep them aloft.
“There!” Yletta cried excitedly, pointing.
Cringle started, not knowing what was happening, once more dragged from the very edge of sleep. He looked to where his mother was pointing and made out, far in the distance, the outline of a coast. Where he was he had no idea and gave a silent plea to Fate they weren’t coming in over Reaver territory. Soon they were over thickly wooded country and Cringle descended, looking for a safe place to land. The land appeared uninhabited so he chose what appeared to be a clear patch of grass at the top of a cliff and set the carpet down.
Yletta untied herself and stood up, groaning as she stretched her legs. Cringle joined her and they walked around for a while to get the stiffness out before Yletta went to her pack and took some packages of food out, one of which she handed to Cringle. She also took out her fan which she unwrapped from its covering.
“After you’ve eaten I want you to sleep. I’ll stand watch while you do. I can sleep while we’re travelling, as long as I’m tied to you.”
“Good idea Yletta,” Cringle replied around a mouthful of food and five minutes after he’d finished eating, the Air Mage was fast asleep.
Yletta sat watch, fan in her lap but there was nothing to fear.
It was early afternoon when Cringle woke refreshed and after another bite to eat they set off again. He took the carpet higher and higher in the clear air, thankful there was not much cloud about, looking for landmarks. Off to their right he finally made out the Wardang Straights and pointed them out to Yletta.
“There, the entry to the Inland Sea. Somewhere south of there is where you want to go.”
He looked forward again, straining to catch sight of something. Finally he did, pointing in front of them to a tiny white speck on the horizon.
“There. The very top of Mount Farseer. It has snow on it all year round. That’s where we’re going. Lynbrook is at its base.”
“We’ll have to stop somewhere for the night son, there’s not much of the day left and we don’t want to surprise them by landing after dark.”
Cringle appeared a little glum.
“I suppose you’re right mother. Another day won’t hurt us.”
And so it was, mid morning the following day, a carpet came down from the heavens and landed in front of the College for Mages in Lynbrook. People poured out of the building as word spread and came to stand in a circle around Cringle and Yletta. A large, burly, grey bearded old man in a brown wool robe shoved his way through the press of bodies and stood imposingly in front of Cringle and Yletta.
“Who are you who dares to disturb the privacy of Lynbrook?” he growled.
Cringle smiled.
“Barron. Don’t you recognise me? It’s Escarion.”
An icy blast of wind powered toward Cringle and he deflected it with ease.
“Hold Barron! It’s truly I. My essence was deposited into this youth before you because I was killed by a deceitful Q’Herindam Mage at the battle for Belvedere. I know you well. You were graduating the College when I was but starting.”
Barron appeared doubtful and peered closely at Cringle.
“Who is the woman?”
Cringle placed a restraining hand on Yletta’s arm.
“She is the mother of the body I share, known as Cringle, who just happens to be the rightful King of Cheshwon.”
Barron wasn’t happy about this.
“And where did you obtain the magic carpet?” he asked.
Cringle smiled broadly.
“Ah Barron. It’s not a magic carpet. It’s a new form of travel I’ve come up with. Only Air Mages can use it.”
He gestured and the carpet rose into the air accompanied by gasps from the circle of onlookers. Cringle spun it and sent it soaring before gently bringing it back to earth. Their packs were still on top of the carpet. They hadn’t moved.
Barron stepped forward and embraced Cringle in a crippling bear hug.
“I’d recognise that touch on Airmagic anywhere. Welcome home Escarion, Cringle or whatever you call yourself. Maam.” He said, dipping his head deferentially toward Yletta.
Soon they were in the refectory of the College for Mages taking food and drink. Cringle had left the carpet outside and students and teachers were experimenting with it. The last he’d seen, the carpet was flopping around on the ground. Barron was quizzing him about his escapades since he’d suddenly left Lynbrook over two years past on his gryffon. Cringle let the Escarion part of himself give Barron a quick potted version as they ate, more so for all the tutors and Mages standing around them listening in. Details would come later, many details.
“So I returned to make my report to the Kin of S’Ria and increase the knowledge we all hold. Also, I promised my mother to help her find her brother, who is in one of the countries toward the southern most end of the Inland Sea. She cannot remember which because she was taken from there by the Draakon Reavers when she was ten years old and given drugs to make her forget her past.”
Barron shook his shaggy head.
“The Reavers are evil but I heard a rumour they had a big setback the second time they sailed into Belvedere’s harbour.”
Cringle lifted his eyes from his plate and fixed them on Barron.
“That was down to Kuiran, a friend of mine. He’s a Watermage now. His guardian Ssarista, a Selkie, did that to the Reavers. They lost a lot of ships and all of the men on them.”
Barron regarded Cringle with new respect.
“I see you’ve brought a lot of information for the Kin of S’Ria.”
Cringle indicated Yletta.
“We both have.”
Over the ensuing days both Cringle and Yletta settled into Lynbrook. Escarion’s cottage was still vacant, kept clean and tidy by volunteers while Lynbrook waited for his return. Once he’d cleared his books and few possessions out of the spare room, Yletta had somewhere comfortable to sleep. I
t was a bit of a come down from a palace but she assured Cringle she was more than happy. In fact she was happier now than she’d been in a long, long time and it showed. After a few days, some of the wives and young girls she’d already met bought some simple things for her, like curtains, a tablecloth and a quilt plus some colourful towels. She prettied up her room and gave it feminine touches which pleased her greatly.
Cringle’s first few days were a little difficult. He found he’d constantly surprise old friends and acquaintances when he stopped to talk with them. He plain forgot how different he now looked to them; from the inside he felt almost the same. After a while the folk of Lynbrook came to recognise the young half-cast Cheshwon as Escarion and also of his desire to be known as Cringle, the name Escarion and he had finally agreed on. Life settled down somewhat after these early hurdles were overcome.
Over the following weeks Cringle and Yletta settled into a routine. Cringle had to tell his story in depth and demonstrate new magics he’d learnt to do with the Power of the Air. Having fought magic battles against the Q’Herindam in concert with Arwhon, Shiri and Kuiran at his side, he could lecture on the theory of magical combinations. Scribes took down his every word to be added to the great library in the College of the Mages.
While he was involved with his peers, Yletta spent her time socialising with the women of Lynbrook. She found a vibrant society full of art and invention. Quite a few of the women also had Airmagic ability and used it all the time in their daily lives. Sometimes it was like an extra pair of hands, rocking a cradle, spinning a mobile for a baby, drying washing quickly. The list was as endless as their applications of it. Yletta grew to enjoy her time in Lynbrook, finding satisfaction in a lifestyle she’d never had time to sample but every so often the headaches would come, far stronger than she’d experienced in Cheshwon. There were remedies available but the headaches simply strengthened her resolve to find her brother. She asked Cringle about it one night and he said they would go soon; he just had a few more things to clear up. Cringle explained to her he couldn’t just leave, as he had a duty to Lynbrook as one of the settlements pre-eminent Mages.
Were of the Drakon Page 24