The Choice of Magic

by Michael G. Manning

  Will saw his uncle’s eyes open, noting the girl leaving the room, but Will closed his own, pretending to be asleep. The last thing he wanted was another conversation.

  ***

  The next morning, he made his announcement. It was time to return. He didn’t expect the reaction he got, as everyone seemed universally against the idea.

  “You’ve done enough,” said his mother. “The army will be fine without you.”

  “But Eric is still there…”

  “And if I could keep him here, I would bring him back in an instant,” declared his uncle.

  “Please don’t go,” pleaded Sammy.

  Will glanced at Annabelle, and she mouthed the words ‘don’t go,’ and that settled it for him. I definitely have to go, he told himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I signed a contract for five years. I don’t want to be a deserter.”

  His mother glared at him. “You didn’t have a choice!”

  “I did have a choice, Mom. I chose to get Uncle Johnathan out. I have to go back. Selene trusted me.”

  “She’s dead,” said Annabelle coldly.

  “No, she’s not,” declared Will. “I don’t know where she is, but I’m sure she’s waiting for me to keep my word.”

  The argument continued for a while after that, but his mother could see the determination in his eyes, and when she gave up the others followed suit. Will apologized for his decision, but he was packing as he did so.

  Dressing in his freshly washed though still-stained gambeson, he shimmied into the mail shirt and put on his belt. He no longer had his sword, which gave him a moment of chagrin when he realized he would be forced to pay for it when he returned. Thankfully, he had left his shield and spear back in Branscombe.

  He held the gold ring in his palm for a moment, trying to decide what to do with it. It seemed too ostentatious to wear. That much gold in plain sight was an invitation to robbery or accusations of theft. Only a nobleman would dare wear so much wealth in plain sight. Still, he hadn’t put it on even once since receiving it. I’ll just wear it until I get close to the camp, he told himself, slipping it onto the ring finger of his right hand.

  Nothing happened. He felt no overwhelming urge to do evil things, and there were no voices whispering wicked advice in his ear. Will was almost disappointed. Holding up his hand, he saw a glimmer of turyn around it, the first sign of magic he had noticed around it thus far. I guess Aislinn didn’t cheat me, he thought. It must do something.

  He shrugged and said his goodbyes, hugging everyone again. Annabelle followed him out the door. “I’ll wait for you,” she told him earnestly.

  “Don’t,” said Will. “There’s no guarantee I’ll be back, and even if I do…”

  “She’s dead, Will,” said Annabelle without a trace of remorse. A hint of madness danced behind her eyes.

  “She’s not. No matter what happened to her. I’ll find her.” Turning his back, he walked away, though he could feel Annabelle’s eyes following him until he disappeared around the side of the house.

  His trip back to Branscombe was unremarkable. The goddamn cat declined to speak when he passed through the cave, though he spent several minutes trying to convince the creature to converse with him. With a shrug, he resumed walking, and soon he was back at the hidden spring.

  He recognized the guard at the town gate. It was Ned. The constable called out to him as he turned right to head toward the military camp, “I don’t see your murder weapon. Did you leave it at the scene this time?” Ned began to laugh at his own joke.

  Will just waved and kept going. Actually, I did, he realized.

  The camp guards asked for his name when he reached the perimeter, so he answered, “William Cartwright, returning from extended duty away.”

  “Which unit are you with?” asked one of the two soldiers.

  “Company B, Fifth Platoon,” said Will.

  “Extended duty?” asked the other.

  Uncertain, Will rephrased his words, “Detached duty? Get Sergeant Nash. He’ll confirm it for you.”

  “One moment.”

  One guard stepped away a minute, and a runner was sent. Will was forced to wait at the perimeter for nearly twenty minutes before Lieutenant Stanton appeared, flanked by no fewer than six men in mail. The look on his face was not welcoming. “Take him into custody.”

  Will’s head went from side to side as the men maneuvered around him and grabbed his arms. “Wait. What? I had orders! Ask Selene, she’ll tell you.”

  “Who?” The lieutenant raised one brow curiously.

  “Isabel,” he said, correcting himself. “Ask Isabel! She said she’d arranged the orders for us.”

  Stanton stared at him for a moment, disappointment written on his features. “I’m sorry to disillusion you Mister Cartwright, but the lady you’re referring to is no longer at this camp. I would also like to remind you that she is not part of the military command structure. Was any part of that unclear to you?”

  “No, sir,” said Will reflexively. “I mean, yes, sir! She was part of the command, wasn’t she?” His eyes were full of confusion.

  “Bring him.”

  The men quickly marched Will to the command tent, but rather than taking him inside, they shackled his wrists together and attached the chain to a metal loop on a pole that stood nearby. The loop was above his head, so he was forced to stand with his arms in the air. “Could I talk to Lord Nerrow please?” he asked.

  Lieutenant Stanton gave him a look that almost seemed sympathetic. “Lord Nerrow is no longer in charge of this army. The Royal Marshal has taken command.” He started to walk away.

  “But can I see him anyway?”

  “He’s returned to his estate. The king saw fit to put him to other duties.” With that, the lieutenant left.

  Will stood alone, while the occasional soldier walked by and gave him an amused look. “Goddamn it,” he swore. Once again, he heard Sven’s voice in his head, “Never volunteer.” He promised himself he would never disregard the old man’s advice again. He hoped he wouldn’t have to wait for long.

  An hour passed, and he began to wish they had taken off his armor before chaining him up. He was getting tired, but he couldn’t sit down to rest. He tried bending his legs and letting his wrists take his weight, but the iron shackles cut into his wrists.

  The afternoon passed slowly, and at some point, he realized he was still wearing the ring. He hadn’t been armed, so the guards had only divested him of his belt knife. He admired their integrity in not taking such an obviously valuable ring. Maybe there is still some good in this world, he told himself.

  A horn blew, announcing that mess had begun, and Will’s well-trained stomach rumbled in response. He looked at his belly. “You’re a better soldier than I am.” He supposed he should be grateful he hadn’t needed to pee. He’d been standing in the sun so long that the sweat soaking into his gambeson had dehydrated him and saved him from the need.

  Supper ended, and soldiers went by, returning to their tents, but Will didn’t bother to watch. He kept his head down, trying not to think of the meal he had missed. A shadow fell across him, and when he looked up Tiny and Dave were standing there.

  “You look like shit,” said Dave cheerfully, but Tiny held up a waterskin, offering it to him to drink.

  After several long swallows, Will asked, “Are you going to get in trouble for giving me water?”

  Tiny shook his head. “I don’t think so. There’s no rule saying you can’t have water.”

  “Then why hasn’t anyone else given me water?” said Will.

  Dave grinned. “Probably because they don’t give a damn. Makes you think though, doesn’t it?”

  “About what?”

  “That maybe you shouldn’t have deserted, asshole,” said the ex-thief.

  “I didn’t desert,” protested Will. “I had orders. Sele—Isabel said she would fix it.”

  Tiny shook his head again, this time sadly. Then he fixed Will with sorrowful eyes. �
�I warned you, Will.” He patted his chest. “This is gonna get you in trouble every time.”

  “It’s true! Where is she?”

  Dave chuckled. “I feel for you. I really do. She hasn’t been seen since you left.” He stepped forward to pat Will’s back comfortingly. “Which means you, my friend, are well and truly fucked.”

  “You might be better off not mentioning her,” suggested Tiny. “She seemed important. If she ran off with you and you’re back without her, it might be better to just take the whip for being a deserter.”

  They gave him some more water, but eventually they had to leave. Dave waved as they left. “Good luck, Will. I’ll toast you with my first drink every holiday.”

  Will wanted to swear, but he didn’t bother. Instead he did what he did best. Stand by his post. He chuckled ruefully. Apparently, I’m here because I didn’t stay at my post. Now I don’t have a choice.

  A short while later, another familiar voice called his name. “Will?”

  It was Eric. “Evening,” said Will with forced cheer. “How’d you know I was here?”

  “Some of the guys from Company B passed me the message. Did you really desert?”

  “I vehemently deny that accusation.”

  “Then tell me what happened.”

  So he did, giving Eric an abbreviated version that left out most of the interesting details regarding Selene and his dealings with the fae. He made sure to include everything about Annabelle Withy, though he left out what had happened to Tracy Tanner. When he finished, Eric looked at him in disbelief.

  “It sounds like they should be giving you a medal, not chaining you up. Is that all the truth?” asked Eric.

  “I’d swear it on my life.”

  “Have you told them?” He nodded in the direction of the command tent.

  “I haven’t had a chance. They staked me here as soon as I got back.”

  There was a noise from behind, and Eric started to back away. “I think they’re coming for you. Good luck. Try to think of a more believable story. They’re never going to buy the one you told me.” Then he was gone.

  “It was the truth!” Will shouted after his cousin. Why won’t anyone believe me? Twisting his head, he saw four more guards approaching.

  Chapter 64

  Will was on his knees in the same place he had once met his father, Lord Nerrow. The atmosphere was considerably chillier this time. A guard stood on either side of him, presumably in case he decided to act up. Lieutenant Stanton sat at a small wooden desk on the right side of the room, along with a clerk that Will didn’t recognize.

  The figure that dominated the room was the Royal Marshal, Duke Vincent Arenata. Stanton had taken him aside before the interrogation began in order to make sure Will knew that the man who would be asking the questions was in charge of the entire army of Terabinia. Duke Arenata stood second only to King Lognion himself. Two elementals hovered over the duke’s shoulders, one of fire and the other of air.

  How lucky am I? thought Will.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” said Lord Arenata. Apparently, the man thought that was a good way to start a long conversation, though Will felt there were dozens of better questions to start with.

  “Yes, Your Lordship—” One of the guards kicked him before he could finish, knocking him onto his side.

  Lieutenant Stanton spoke firmly, “You do not address the marshal as ‘Your Lordship.’ He is to be referred to as either ‘Your Grace’ or simply as ‘Marshal Arenata.’”

  Will started again, still lying on his side. “First, let me say that I’m incredibly honored to be interviewed personally by such an important personage as yourself, Your Grace.”

  Marshal Arenata glared, then nodded at one of the guards, who promptly kicked him again. “Please get to the facts Mister Cartwright. It’s been a busy day and I don’t have time for this. If it weren’t for the fact that you claimed to have received orders from a certain woman, you would already be strung up for the whip. Talking to deserters is not a normal part of my day.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” said Will immediately. “She gave me orders to slip behind enemy lines and destroy their supplies in Barrowden. Lady Isabel told me that she had given orders to that effect. That I wouldn’t be a deserter.”

  The marshal leapt out of his chair, his eyes giving Lieutenant Stanton an accusing stare. “Am I supposed to believe this tripe? I’ve never heard such utter nonsense in my life!”

  Stanton held out his hands placatingly. “If it please you, Marshal Arenata, there have been numerous exceptional circumstances around Mister Cartwright. I have good reason to believe that at least this part of his story is true.”

  You haven’t even heard my story, asshole, thought Will. Then a second thought came to him. Wait, is he trying to help me?

  The marshal wagged a finger at Lieutenant Stanton. “Come with me.” The two men left the room.

  While they were gone Will looked up at the guards. “Is it all right if I get back to my knees? The floor is very nice, and I am tired, but it seems like it would be more appropriate.”

  The guard that had kicked him twice merely growled, but the second one grabbed his shoulder and helped him back upright.

  The marshal returned a few minutes later, and he and Stanton reclaimed their seats. “The lieutenant gave me some details regarding your previous service to Terabinia,” said the marshal. “It seems he even believes you killed several sorcerers and the enemy commander at the Darrowan camp in the pass.”

  Will nodded. “Yes, sir.” That earned him another kick, but the second guard braced him this time, so he didn’t fall. “Yes, Your Grace,” he amended.

  The marshal continued, “So, given your remarkable abilities as a scout, you would have me believe that Lady Isabel ordered you to take on this highly improbable mission.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Will hesitated a moment, then added, “And she came with me.”

  Marshal Arenata’s face colored for a moment, but he held his tongue. “Very well. Explain what occurred during this most secret and highly dangerous mission you undertook almost singlehandedly.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Will did his best, leaving out everything about his method of reaching Barrowden, as well as excluding any mention of his family. In the tale he told, they managed to sneak past the Darrowan army at night and went directly to their main camp in Barrowden. His story from that point stayed close to the truth, although he gave Selene credit for most of the feats of derring-do. No one would have believed his own contributions. He ended by telling them that they had escaped together during the confusion, and that Selene had disappeared shortly thereafter. After that he had camped a while, recovering his strength before making the difficult trek back.

  The only mistake he made was when he slipped and reverted from calling her Isabel and began using her presumably real name in the middle of the story.

  The marshal stared at him, pure malice in his eyes. “Your story is so improbable that it makes me want to laugh, but for one fact. You slipped up and gave yourself away when you called her Selene.”

  Uncertain, Will asked, “Is that a bad thing, Your Grace?”

  “It means you knew very well what her true identity was. It also gives you an excellent motive for kidnapping or murder. Whichever is the case, you’ll hang for treason against the crown.” He paused for a moment, then addressed the lieutenant. “Wait, that doesn’t sound right. What’s the punishment for treason against the crown?”

  “Death by flogging,” answered the lieutenant.

  “But I told the truth!” shouted Will. “You can check for yourself. Their entire camp is destroyed. They’re probably already starving!”

  The previously somewhat friendly guard kicked him this time, so hard that his head rattled when it hit the ground. Will mumbled into the dirt, “Your Grace.”

  The Marshall was on his feet, and he stared down at Will. “You make me sick. You lured Selene Maligant from the safety of this ca
mp and kidnapped her. Beyond that it’s impossible to say, but I would not doubt for a second that you either raped and murdered her or sold her to the Patriarch’s men.”

  “But I’m innocent,” said Will desperately. “She said she left orders.” Maligant? She’s the king’s daughter! At last he understood how well and truly damned he had become.

  “There were no orders!” screamed the marshal, spittle flying from his lips. “For the love of all that is holy, the only thing I don’t understand is why you thought you could come back here! I’d kill you myself if it were allowed.”

  “Lock him in the stockade,” said the marshal.

  One of the guards smiled and the marshal turned back. “Don’t touch him. The king will want him in perfect condition so he can see justice done himself.”

  Will wanted to cry as they dragged him away, but the hysteria rising up within him had different ideas. “We have a stockade now? That’s new.” He almost welcomed the blow that followed. I kidnapped a princess—fuck me! Then he thought about the night she had kissed him. And I told her off for kissing me. Gods above, I’m the biggest idiot in the world.

  The next morning, he was loaded into a wagon, and the journey to Cerria began. Since there was an honest-to-goodness paved road and the weather was good, they made the trip in four days. Along the way, one of his guards informed him he was lucky it was treason he was charged with, otherwise he’d have already been executed by the military.

  Small blessings, thought Will wryly. He was too glum to appreciate the high stone arches and soaring towers of Cerria as they rolled into the capital city of Terabinia. The city was a marvel of stonework and artisanship. It predated Terabinia itself, having been one of the two greatest cities of Greater Darrow before the war for independence.

  But Will counted himself fortunate. He would get to experience the city from a vantage point few ever saw, the inside of the royal dungeons. He hoped the food would be better than what they served in the lockup in Branscombe, otherwise death might be preferable. He snickered to himself, wishing he could have told Arrogan his joke.