Fate of Wizardoms Boxed Set

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “Very well. Just watch yourself. High Wizard Charcoan has issued strict orders. There is a curfew an hour after sunset. Anyone caught in the streets between then and dawn is to be arrested and interrogated.”

  Salvon’s brow furrowed. “What would prompt the high wizard to do such a thing?”

  “A dire situation has arisen, and the restrictions are in place until things return to normal.”

  The shorter guard elbowed his companion. “Don’t tell them that.”

  “Why? They’ll see it for themselves soon enough.”

  Narine rose up on her knees and asked, “What will we see?”

  The shorter guard looked at her, his eyes roving from her face to her chest before widening. The look in his eyes made Narine feel self-conscious, and she wished to cover herself.

  The taller guard said, “Lord Taladain has–”

  The shorter guard stopped the taller man by gripping his shoulder, his gaze still fixed on Narine. “We cannot say more. Orders, you see.” His gaze shifted to Salvon. “Where did you say you are staying?”

  “Hmm… Well, I didn’t, but I have found The Golden Chalice to be a fine place for storytelling, the audience always eager for more.”

  “The Golden Chalice.” The short guard nodded. “Yes. A nice inn, located in the merchant quarter.”

  Salvon nodded. “That’s it.”

  “Very well.” The shorter guard pulled the taller one backward, away from the wagon. “Nightfall is here, so you should move along. Remember the curfew. Have a good night.”

  Salvon nodded and snapped the reins. Jabbers pulled the small cart from the gravel road to the cobblestone square inside the gate. A fountain stood to one side, where Rawk and Rhoa waited. The pair followed as Salvon guided the cart down a narrow, busy street.

  Jace crept along the rooftops, remaining a few strides from the edge to stay hidden from anyone on the street below. The sun had set, but the sky was light enough to make him visible if anyone glanced up at the wrong moment.

  When Jace came to an alley, he paused and leaned forward, watching for Salvon’s cart. The old man’s horse continued down the street, beyond the intersection. Jace backed up and leapt over the twelve-foot span, landing lightly as he continued forward. Scurrying across three rooftops in rapid fashion, he eased toward the eaves and peered over. People on the street, heading in both directions, moved to the sides to make room for the horse and small cart. At the next corner, Salvon turned down an alley with a sign depicting a chalice painted a bright yellow.

  “Come on, Jace,” he muttered to himself, one of his many habits. “You know where they are staying. Why do you care? You are better off without them. Just remember what is waiting for you in Marquithe.”

  As he turned away, he spotted two Ghealdan guards walking through the crowd. The men stopped to look down the alley, then hurried down the street, shoving through the foot traffic in an obvious rush. It took only a moment before Jace decided to follow.

  After dinner, Narine headed upstairs in The Golden Chalice to take a bath. While the meal was nothing notable, it was better than anything she had eaten since fleeing Fastella. She had tried to convince Adyn to join her in the bathing room, but the woman ordered another tankard of ale and said she might remain for a third mug. Accordingly, Narine had left her, Rhoa, Rawk, and Salvon, who was scheduled to perform soon.

  At the top of the stairs, she found the baths just two doors from the room she was to share with Rhoa and Adyn. A steaming kettle on a grate above hot coals waited in the fireplace. She used the heavy leather mitts to lift the kettle and pour the scalding water into the already half-filled copper tub. Stripping down, she examined her lavender dress. There were dirt patches and it smelled faintly of sweat. Her shift smelled much worse. With no change of clothes, she decided to wash them both while sitting in the tub. It felt wonderful to soak in the hot water, alone, in peace. Traveling with others lacked solitude, and Narine enjoyed having a brief moment to herself.

  When the water had cooled enough to force her out, she wrung out her clothing and dried herself with a towel before wrapping it about herself and grabbing her slippers. She peeked out to find the hallway empty, hurried down the corridor, and stopped outside her room while fumbling with the key. Opening the door, she stepped inside.

  The room was tiny compared to her bed chamber in Fastella, yet larger than the rooms at the previous two inns where they had stayed. Growing up in a palace made most other buildings seem small and the rooms inside them even smaller. If she had learned anything during the past week, it was to adjust her expectations. The rest of the world lived quite differently than a princess.

  She laid her wet dress over a chair and shook out her shift. This is going to be cold, she thought, gritting her teeth as she slipped her arms in and pulled it over her head. Getting into it was a challenge, requiring her to wiggle and work it down over her chest and hips. She then picked up her towel and did her best to dry her golden hair.

  A knock startled her, causing her to freeze. But it came from the window, not the door. She spun around and gasped when she saw someone outside, staring in.

  Jace worked his way across the rooftops, heading toward The Golden Chalice. On the street below him, a man rode a horse at a walk. But not just any horse. Jace’s horse…or at least the one he had stolen weeks earlier on his way from Lionne to Starmuth.

  “I will miss you, Patches,” he whispered to himself.

  The man and horse turned into an alley and faded from view. Jace hurried over the peaked roof of the building beside the inn and saw the man ride into the dark, empty stable yard. The man dismounted, opened the stable doors, and walked the horse inside before pulling the doors closed.

  Suspecting he had little time to waste, Jace slid to the edge of the eaves, gripped the downspout, and lowered himself to the porch roof below. He crept forward and peered through a window. The room was dark, save for a single lantern, nobody inside. The next room was occupied by a couple, neither of whom were clothed and both clearly having a much better evening than his own. He knew he should feel ashamed for watching, but he had larger concerns to address.

  With a hint of reluctance, he moved along. When he peered through the next window, he saw a woman drying her hair with a towel. The woman turned slowly, her wet shift clinging to her shapely curves, the thin material revealing just about everything it was designed to conceal. She was obviously cold, the sight heating his blood. When she lowered the towel, he realized it was Narine.

  With a body like that, you would think she would be eager to show it off.

  Releasing a sigh, he knocked on the window.

  Narine spun, her eyes flaring with shock. Her face then turned red as she stomped over, unlatched the window, and flung it open.

  “Have you no shame?” she shrieked. “Is this what you do? Creep around and watch innocent women as they get dressed?”

  “Hush,” Jace said in an urgent whisper. “Will you be quiet and let me in?”

  His response appeared to only increase her ire. “I will not be quiet, nor can you come in! I don’t need some lecherous thief skulking about my bed–”

  He thrust his palm into her face. “Stop,” he whispered angrily. “Stop being a pretentious princess long enough for me to explain.”

  She clamped her jaw closed, her mouth forming a grimace. “Fine.” She backed away as he climbed in.

  Jace stood and glanced around the room. It was empty, save for a lit lantern and some furniture. His gaze settled on Narine. Her hair was a wet mess, begging to be brushed. Bright blue eyes gazed back at him, issuing a silent challenge. Her body, well… He openly appraised her with a smirk.

  “You needn’t be so ashamed about your body. In fact, you should be proud.”

  Narine crossed her arms over her chest, covering it. “Is this important, or should I scream for Adyn?”

  “First, I came here to help you.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Guards followed you after you entered the
city. They then went to the high wizard. Charcoan knows you are here and is sending a company of men to arrest you.”

  “What?” Her angry expression fell away. “How do you know this?”

  “I…” I hate to admit this. “I was watching to see where you were staying. When I followed Salvon’s cart, I spotted the guards from the gate trailing you. I then followed them to Charcoan’s castle outside the city. He plans to storm the inn tonight and take you into custody. Word on the streets says there is a substantial reward for your capture.” He put his hand on her shoulder. Her skin felt cold. “You need to escape. Now.”

  The door burst open, Adyn rushing into the room. She skidded to a halt and stared at Jace. “What are you doing here?” She eased the door closed, locked it, and turned toward him with her eyes narrowed. “Did you lead those guards to us?”

  Jace groaned. “They are here already?”

  “Yes. I was at the top of the stairs when they burst in.”

  Narine spun toward Adyn. “Jace was just warning me about Charcoan sending guards to take me into custody. I fear the high wizard intends to hand me over to Eldalain.”

  Adyn stared at Narine for a breath before nodding. “We have to get you out of here.”

  Jace turned. “The window. It’s the only way.”

  Narine looked at it. “You want me to climb out a window in the dark while wearing nothing but my shift?”

  He looked her over briefly and smiled. “I suggest you put on some shoes first.”

  Adyn bent, scooped up Narine’s slippers, and shoved them into her midriff. “He’s right. Get them on and let’s go.” She then hurried to the far side of the bed. “Jace, help me block the door.”

  The pair of them began moving furniture while Narine put her slippers on and pulled her wet dress over her head. Jace couldn’t help but watch as she struggled to get it on. Rather than button it, she tossed her dry cloak over her shoulders and tied it at the neck. By then, all three beds were piled in front of the door.

  The rush of footsteps came from the hallway. The doorknob jiggled, then they heard a faint voice. “This one is locked.”

  Jace turned to the window and pulled it open. “Come along and be quiet.” He then stepped through and onto the awning.

  The air was chilled by a sea breeze. Voices drifted up from the stable yard below. In the light from the inn, the shadowy silhouettes of a half-dozen guards were visible. Jace thought to himself, Come on, Norm. Before they see us. Timing was everything for plans such as Jace’s latest.

  Narine poked her head out, and Jace gave her his hand. She used her other hand to lift her skirts and step through the opening. Her trailing foot caught on the sill and she fell forward, but Jace caught her before she went over the edge. He pulled her close to hold her steady while waiting for Adyn.

  “Did you hear something?” a guard below said.

  The stable door burst open, and a horse-drawn cart came rushing out. The cart went straight for the guards, causing the men to dive out of the way lest they be trampled. With a sharp turn, Salvon’s cart sped into the alley and was gone.

  The guards scrambled up, began shouting, and raced after the horse-drawn cart. In moments, the stable yard was, again, quiet.

  Jace turned to find Adyn standing beside Narine. She had donned her cloak, as well, the dark material helping her to melt into the shadows.

  “Was that Salvon?” Narine whispered.

  “No.” Jace pulled her along the roof, toward the building next door. “It was a man named Norm. I gave him my horse… Well, I gave him a horse I had stolen a couple weeks ago in exchange for a small deed he was to perform.”

  When they reached the building, he pointed up. “We need to climb.”

  Narine looked up at the downspout and shook her head. “How am I going to climb that? I can barely do a pull-up.”

  He rolled his eyes. “We will figure it out.”

  Adyn walked past him. “I’ll go up first. Jace can boost you up, and I’ll pull you onto the roof.” Without pause, she gripped the downspout and climbed up.

  Jace turned to Narine and cupped his hands together, forming a foothold. When she put a slippered foot into it, he lifted with a grunt. She then climbed onto his shoulders and gripped the downspout. He stepped away, but she slipped, forcing him to rush forward and catch her. With his hands on her backside, he pushed her up until she was able to reach Adyn’s outstretched hands. Between the two of them, Jace pushing from below and Adyn pulling from above, they got Narine onto the roof.

  Jace climbed up next, scrambling onto the roof and rising to his feet before dusting off his hands.

  Narine glared at him. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “What?”

  “I find it oddly convenient that your hands groped my backside while I was trying to climb up.”

  Jace gaped at her before recovering. He threw his hands into the air. “Fine. You got me. I planned the entire thing.” He crossed the roof, still talking. “I sent guards your way and snuck in, hoping I might catch you in your shift. I then conveniently made sure the roof next door was high enough where I could lift you while caressing your arse.” He paused at the peak and turned around. “Now you know the depths of my depravity. Are you coming along, or would you prefer we go visit your brother in Fastella?”

  Narine glared at him for a moment before climbing toward the peak of the roof. “Is there a third choice? Something more appealing? For instance, I could bathe in the sewers, or perhaps wed a goat?”

  Snickering, Adyn followed. Narine walked past Jace, as if he weren’t there.

  Adyn paused long enough to clap him on the shoulder. “You two are getting on swimmingly. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

  The two women descended before jumping to the flat roof next door.

  A loud crash came from the direction of the inn, followed by men shouting.

  They are breaking through the door we barred, Jace thought.

  With a sigh, he followed the women. It was going to be a long night.

  3

  A Ruckus

  “Nobody move!” a man shouted as he strode into the dining room of The Golden Chalice.

  The man wore Ghealdan armor, as did the six guards who trailed him. Unlike the guards, he wore no helmet, his cropped black hair peppered with gray. His stern glare swept the room, all eyes on him.

  Salvon, who had been in the middle of a story, stopped his telling and frowned at the intruder. Another cluster of four guards entered from the rear, stopping to block the corridor.

  Rawkobon Kragmor wished he were in a building made of stone rather than one made of wood. Wooden structures were a foreign concept to the Maker, having lived his entire life in the underground city of Ghen Aeldor. He understood stone – a substance he could sense, a material he could shape, one that brought him comfort. Since even the floor was made of wood, he couldn’t burrow his way out should the situation demand flight. Being trapped, he began to gasp for air, his heart racing.

  The patrons in the dining room were frozen, their attention focused on the armored man as he crossed the room toward Salvon.

  “I am Captain Pilson. I am in charge of the security of Starmuth and have been sent by High Wizard Charcoan to arrest a wanted criminal.”

  Salvon frowned. “Why are you addressing me? I am a simple storyteller, performing my craft…until your rude interruption.”

  The captain stalked toward Salvon. “Come now, old man. We know you entered the city with her. Where is she?”

  His brow rose. “She?”

  Pilson grabbed the old man’s lute and pulled it from Salvon’s grip. His face twisted and he doubled over before dropping the lute to the floor. The thrum from the strings vibrating echoed in the quiet room.

  “Argh,” Pilson exclaimed, shaking his wrist, as if his hand had been bitten. He glowered at the instrument. “That thing… There is something wrong with it.”

  Bending to pick up the lute, Salvon cradled it to himself li
ke a babe. “It is enchanted. Anyone who touches it will feel quite ill, as you have discovered.”

  Pilson wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned toward his men. “Go check upstairs. Bring down anyone you find.”

  A group of soldiers ran upstairs to search, while the others watched their captain pace the room. Spinning on his heel, Pilson turned toward Salvon with a grimace. “Where is the princess?”

  Rawk heard Rhoa gasp. Nervous, he looked around for a means to escape. Charcoan’s guards were not looking at him or Rhoa, but the exits were blocked. He feared they would find the princess and drag her downstairs. Worse, he feared Rhoa would be implicated in Taladain’s assassination.

  “Princess?” Salvon appeared confused. “I don’t know of any princess.”

  “Tell me then,” the captain stepped closer. “Who was with you when you arrived at Starmuth?”

  The old man blinked. “Oh. The two women? I met them just a few days ago where the western road meets the one leading to Fastella. They appeared worn, especially the fair-haired one. She didn’t seem fit for walking, so I offered them a ride in my cart.” Salvon leaned close to the man. “At my age, you consider it a treat to have the company of two comely young women as travel companions.”

  Rawk blinked in amazement at how well Salvon sold the lie. The storyteller’s reply was so smooth, so believable.

  The guard glared at Salvon until a ruckus arose from outside, men shouting. He turned toward the rear corridor as a soldier rushed in, breathing heavily. Rawk recognized him as the taller guard from the city gate.

  “It was the cart, sir. The same one that entered the city with the princess.” The tall guard glanced at Salvon. “Whoever was driving it just took off, toward the south gate. The other guards are in pursuit.”

  The captain grunted. “I thought you said the horse pulling the cart was old, could barely walk.”