by B J Hanlon
When the nurse came around, Edin couldn’t look in her eyes and his face flushed.
Then yesterday… or at least he thought it was, Edin had heard a muted commotion beyond some partition. He remembered the muffled voices and thought he could make out Pharont’s, but couldn’t be sure.
Edin was sick of this place, sick of needing people to watch over him, sick of being useless. He needed to get out. Edin pushed the blanket off and twisted to get his feet to the floor. He tried standing, felt the rush of blood and the weakness of his legs and sat back down. He groaned and dropped his head to his hands.
It took minutes for him to stand and actually keep his balance. Air brushed his body beneath the hospital tunic tied loosely around his lower back. It was a short dress, exposing him, all of him, to the elements.
Edin poured water from a copper pitcher and drank. It took three refills before he felt satiated and well enough to move. He pulled back the curtain to reveal eight beds, four on his side and four across from him, in a tall rectangular room. All were empty and across the room, he saw four large arched windows.
It was dark outside, the moonlight barely puncturing the thin slat shutters. Edin unlatched one and pulled it open an inch. Below, were street lamps gliding down a narrow tree lined path. At the far end was a courtyard that looked somewhat familiar.
Then he saw it to the left, sitting back like a man trying to hide from sight, the castle.
He was inside the castle walls, still presumably under arrest.
Below him, he saw something move through the light. Edin pulled back and watched as a guard strolled casually down the crunchy path toward him.
He was a prisoner in a hospital. It seemed unlike Pharont to offer him such comforts and Edin didn’t like it. It felt wrong.
Maybe he was just being paranoid. Probably. But the machinations of this place seemed to be beyond those of the Rulers of Bestoria. Or maybe he was just naïve.
Edin spied a chest at the foot of his bed. Inside he found his clothes and somehow, his coin purse. He put on his trousers and found his boots beneath the cot. The tunic he’d been wearing had a tear in his left shoulder.
As he was changing, muffled voices came through the only door at the far end of the room. Edin stood as a statue. He waited staring at the door willing it to stay closed.
Then the jangling of keys.
Quickly, he grabbed a pair of pillows and laid them on his cot before covering them with his blanket. A trick he’d used to sneak out at the manor.
He dropped to the ground and slid underneath the bed.
The keys slid in, Edin’s heart raced. The door swung open, just barely, offering a shaft of light that shined on the closed curtain. He saw a boot first, then a hand. A tall guard stepped inside but didn’t shut the door.
Edin watched from the shadows, trying to hold his breath. He was weak and his connection to the talent was somewhat faint. The guard’s metallic steps clacked over the stone floor; the curtain yanked back quickly. He held his breath, watching as the guard just stood there.
Was he here to check on Edin… or to kill him? Edin blinked and waited for the sound of the weapon being drawn. It felt like ten minutes of just standing there…
Instead, the man turned and walked back toward the door.
Edin heard the key slide into the lock and the bolt slam.
He was a prisoner.
Edin had to leave, he had to get off this island. Forget the spellcraft or this illusion of safety. He’d have been better off staying in Resholt, trying to get to Calerrat and blending in with the commoners.
Edin had to leave and soon. He slipped out from under the bed and moved toward the door. There was no sound from the other side. He needed his sword and then he’d have to find a way off this place. Maybe he could steal one of the small boats.
He thought of Arianne. Did she even know what happened? She may have cared or at least acted like it before, but she hadn’t visited him had she?
Edin slipped back to the window and saw the same guard walking back toward the courtyard. Edin pushed the shutter outward a little more, enough to slip through.
Beneath was a windowsill about a foot wide and below that, a long drop to wicked looking bushes rising from dirt beds. He stepped up onto the windowsill and pushed the shutter open further. Edin sat, stuck a leg out, then another and twisted so he was facing inside. His muscles shook as he began to lower himself down with his feet tickling the wall.
Then there was no wall. Edin looked down and saw a gap. Another window maybe. If someone happened to take a peep out of the window at that moment, he’d be spotted.
He had to act quickly. Edin took another glance down at the prickly bushes. This was going to hurt.
Edin dropped, he felt his legs scraping and his trousers ripping. A sharp point jabbed the back of his thigh. He knew it drew blood. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as he pulled himself from the bushes to a manicured lawn and then beneath an oak tree.
Edin crouched and scooted between the trees flowing the path toward the gate. He moved slowly and cautiously and began to hear the low din of voices.
Soon, he saw men seated at a stone table. They wore guard uniforms and were staring intently at some sort of game before them. Further to the right was another guard puffing on a pipe and leaning against the outer wall.
Edin hid behind a tree for ten or so minutes before the man at the wall crossed the open courtyard toward the men playing the game. He slid beneath the trees to the path and not looking at the guards, he circled to the right and straight toward the open gate like a man with a purpose.
No one objected.
Outside, there were two other guards leaning like crooked statues against the wall. Edin didn’t acknowledge them and turned down an avenue across the square. He guessed they were more worried about people entering than exiting the castle. He didn’t look back and headed east to get his weapon and provisions.
The exertion took a lot out of him. As he reached the small hill before the Reaches Tower, he was barely picking up his feet.
It was still dark and the only sounds were noisy crickets and the ocean still beating against the cliff. This was the first place anyone would look for him, but where else would he go?
He felt like he could trust Le Fie, maybe Mersett, but had no idea where they were.
Edin glanced toward Gary’s shed. In the shadows he could barely make out the beast staring at him with doleful eyes.
The bedroom was empty. Dorset was gone, but his things were still there. The book he’d given Edin to read still sat on an end table. Edin slipped his weapon from beneath his bed and held it. It was all he had, that and maybe ten gold coins. He grabbed his pack and slipped into his normal clothes.
There was no way he’d wear the farmer’s garb in the outside world. Everything about this place and from it should be left behind… Arianne.
Edin swallowed as he pictured her. Arianne so proud showing him the keep, offering him hospitality, walking in on him in the bath.
A tear billowed in the corner of his eye. He quickly wiped it and reached for his flask… it was gone, taken by the jailors.
“I need to leave…” Edin whispered as if trying to get his body moving. “This is not a haven…” Edin gritted his teeth and sat on the bed. He was tired… exhausted and was near breaking.
Everything he’d done to get here was for naught… He dropped his head to his pillow. This place was a smiling face in the clouds before a violent storm. It was an illusion.
He’d find some far away land where they didn’t care if he were a magus. Maybe some place even reveres them. He’d make for the docks and steal a ship. He doubted anyone would go against the FAE and it was not likely the tyrant would let him leave. Edin would never return and never see her again. Edin closed his eyes and lost the fight against tears...
The door downstairs slammed open, crashing into a metal pot that made a dinner bell-like ring. Edin’s eyes pushed open and he glanced around.<
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Edin gripped his blade and pulled it from his scabbard. A moment later he knew where he was and what happened. How long had the guards been fooled by the oldest trick in the rapscallion’s book.
A guard’s head appeared, then another. “He’s here!” One guard called back as they reached the top step.
Edin sat back into a serpent stance pointing his weapon at the two. “What do you want?” Edin spat, “if you come near me, you will die.”
Placisus appeared between the two guards. “You’re alive… thank the gods. I thought.” He shook his head. “Sorry.”
“You,” Edin growled, “you left me in that, that, that dark hell to die, you sent the assassin in.”
The broad guard captain shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“I should kill you,” Edin spat.
“Le Fie already is threatening that,” he chuckled.
The laugh startled Edin.
“I didn’t think I had to tell my jailors to leave the lights on and not let any trespassers in,” Placisus paused. “One of them is in custody though he’s not talking.”
“I don’t care,” Edin said. “I’m leaving this damned island. Don’t try to stop me.”
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere.”
“There’re no ships today, none for a while. Unless you’d swim or steal a craft…” He paused and stared at Edin. “That’s what you were going to do… understandable.”
“The water talent is one of my gifts,” Edin said. The words fell off his tongue before he realized what he just said.
Placisus’ eyes raised. A look went over his face. “Guards, leave us.”
“But sir.”
“Go,” Placisus said pursing his lips and looking at Edin though almost awed eyes. When they left he said, “The assassin… she was blinded, her eyes like milky crystals. She rambled about a bright white light.”
Edin said nothing.
“The dungeon is covered in wan stones, no one can use their talent down there not even Mersett.” He paused and eyed Edin. “She wore some sort of spectacles with a yellowish-green lens. Every light was blinding when I looked at them during the day. At night however I could see very well. I imagine a bright ethereal light could do some permanent damage.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Edin said.
“Witnesses spoke on your behalf, some want you commended. As for the assassination attempt… I want you safe, I will inform Le Fie of your whereabouts and discuss the investigation with him.”
“Investigation? You know who wants me dead… your great Fat Arse Egotist.” In many lands, it was punishable by death for insulting a duke or marquees. Clearly Pharont thought himself on par with them.
“Fat Arse…” He laughed. “It works… but I’m setting up a guard rotation for protection. Trusted guards.”
“Like the jailor that let in the assassin?”
Placisus stared at him for a long time. “Do not go to work again…” He said and then disappeared down the stairs.
Edin watched as Placisus rode away alone. The two guards stood like sentries outside of his door. Edin found a metal pail and put it behind the door to alarm him if anyone tries entering.
The pail knocked over with a hollow clang sometime later. Dorset called his name.
“Up here,” Edin yelled.
“You’re alright…” Dorset said when he appeared. When he spoke, Edin noticed a bottom tooth missing. He remembered the broson striking Dorset’s stomach.
“Your mouth?”
“It’ll be fine.” There was a hint of a grin growing on his face that puzzled Edin. “There are city guards outside… what happened? You were in the infirmary?”
“Someone tried to kill me.”
“Pharont?”
“Who else…”
“He’s not done, is he?”
Edin shook his head.
“Well, we better prepare. We’re isolated out here.” He glanced out the far window toward the open ocean. “I better start teaching you spellcraft then. And you have to show me the sword.”
He was tired but Edin agreed.
They moved outside and the guards eyed them warily but said nothing.
Edin watched Dorset using Mirage and practicing the early forms Grent had started him off with.
When the blade was pointed toward Edin, he nearly lost sight of Dorset. It was unnerving but he knew why it was called Mirage.
Edin corrected posture, moved the arm into a stronger position. “Like your spellcraft I imagine, everything needs to be just right. The mechanics of the spell is like the mechanics of the body.”
Edin showed him. The guards watched with curiosity. They were deeply enthralled with Edin’s lesson when hoof beats began to clap down the dirt path.
They grew louder and Edin turned toward the hill. Soon, the guards realized what was happening and grew stiffer, they’d moved ten yards away from Edin and placed their hands on their blades.
Slowly, a man appeared over the small hill atop a carriage.
“Give me that,” Edin said taking the weapon from a sweaty Dorset.
The carriage stopped before the guards. They spoke for a moment with the driver then opened the door with their heads bowed.
Was Pharont stupid enough to come out by himself?
The passenger stepped outside, he wore fine clothes, a brightly colored light blue tunic and cape with a circular golden clasp around his neck. A large hat sat on his round head. The man was heavy set but not fat and looked to be in some discomfort.
The driver, dressed in a servant’s livery, was thinner and slight of build. They looked to be unarmed and definitely out of place.
Edin noticed Dorset standing and wiping blades of brown grass from his tunic before standing up straight.
“Edin de Yaultan?” The large man said.
“Yes.”
He eyed Edin’s weapon. “Can you put away that weapon?”
“I’m not certain, can I?” Edin asked.
“He’s on the council,” Dorset whispered in Edin’s ear.
“My name is Belothann, but most people call me Belo… it works cause I’m loud you see.” The man offered a soft chuckle and then stopped when Edin didn’t respond. Probably not an assassin, he thought but wasn’t ready to sheath the blade. “I spent weeks trying to see you… I’m sorry about the attempt on your life and your imprisonment.”
“Weeks?” Edin asked and looked at Dorset.
“They took you away two weeks ago.”
Edin swallowed. More lost days. He’d have to worry about that later. “You’re with the Praesidium, I take it you’re here to offer your most sincere apologies for the way I’ve been treated.”
“On behalf of myself yes. We are not all his lackeys.” He bowed his head and looked back at Edin.
“What is it you want?”
“My daughter, Cannopina is alive thanks to you and your friend here.” Though he didn’t look at Dorset.
Edin stayed quiet.
“I owe you for my daughter’s return. She is almost fully recovered; the healers have been great and she is now back on her feet.”
Edin said nothing again.
“I have come to let you know I am planning a ball in three weeks. Normally, only the gentry is invited, though I suppose you are part of that being Rihkar’s son. I’d like to make you the guest of honor. As well as your friend here. It will be at my home in Alcor’s Row.”
“I’d have to clear it with the Captain,” one of the guards said.
“I do not know if I will still be here,” Edin said.
Dorset and Belo looked at him curiously. “Have somewhere to go? Our island not to your liking?” Belo said.
“I’d be safer in the midst of a Por Fen camp,” Edin said.
Belo gave a wan smile, “if you do stay, please join us.”
“We’d be honored,” Dorset said.
Belo nearly grimaced at Dorset’s voice. “Come Nan, let us go.”
To the right, Gary brayed. It took the council member’s attention.
“You’re Planning on leaving us?” Dorset asked.
Edin nodded.
His roommate paused for a moment, “do so after the party, his dinners and dances are grand. I’ve been to a few myself. All of the Praesidium will show up.”
“So I can wait for someone to stab me?”
“Come now, they have the assassin, it won’t be long before she talks. Whomever ordered you dead will be given up.”
“She’s Mireshka. I’m sure of it,” Edin said. “She won’t give up anything.”
“Mireshka?” Dorset laughed, “They’re fairy tales…”
Edin shook his head.
“Even if the legendary guild of assassins were real, there’s no way one of them would get on the island…”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Anyways, I’m sure she’s already dead. Killed by whomever hired her.”
“That’s glib.” They were quiet for some time before Dorset spoke. “Well then let’s get some tea and see how your spellcraft is coming.”
“No whiskey?”
“No,” Dorset said.
They left the guards behind and Dorset led him to the mysterious third floor. The entrance was through a door hidden behind a book shelf in their quarters.
“This is my sanctuary,” Dorset said with a grin.
It was a tall room with a conical roof. Four skylights were perched in a cross and toward the ocean, there was a large bay window.
“My office I suppose, when I have time…”
There was a dark stone hearth to one side, torn pillow-top chairs were pushed up in front of the bay window. There were small tables and a larger desk. Old paintings of boats at sea, a dock, and a lighthouse covered the walls as well as bookshelves, half empty.
Edin guessed the rest of the books were the ones covering the furniture and wooden floor. A pair of fluffy looking slippers sat next to one of the ratty looking chairs.
Soon, the sky began to grow gray and rain began pattering on the windows above.
“The glasorio are watering Brackland,” Dorset said. “Time for some spellcraft. This is the ‘Sofito Magus,’ a rough translation is Spells of the Magi.”