Where Magic Rules

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  Phillip stirred on the bed. “How did you know it was Lord Elsen?”

  “I didn’t—not then. He was in his great hall when they dragged me in front of him. He had my belongings spread out on a table—my uniform, cell phone, radio, and gun.”

  She looked perplexed at this part of the narration. Joe had used English words, as Katoah had no comparable words for the products of technology. “Cell phone? Radio? Gun?”

  Joe nodded. “Cell phones and radios are for talking to people when you’re far away from them. A gun is a weapon that kills from a distance—sort of like a bow, but more deadly. Since I wasn’t on a live fire exercise, though, it wasn’t a real gun. It wouldn’t really hurt anyone.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, Lord Elsen looked me over as if I were a specimen brought out for his amusement, which I suppose I was. One of the guards made me kneel while his lordship looked me over. It was then that I knew I was in a truly different world.”

  Phillip tucked her knees under her chin. “Did Lord Elsen do magic?”

  “Yeah,” Joe said, “he did some tricks. He squeezed his hand into a fist, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. He was choking me without touching me.

  “When he opened his hand, I got my breath back. Next he took a white-hot poker out of the fire and held it in his bare hands. I thought it was an illusion until he used it to set the ropes that bound me on fire. The guards laughed before they put the fire out. And then Lord Elsen put his hand on my shoulder, and I was in agony. I pleaded with him to make it stop. When he finally did, though, he kept his hand on my shoulder and said something stern.

  “I told him I didn’t understand, and I think he could tell what I was saying, if not the actual words. Then one of the guards brought over my gun and my radio and shoved them in my face. “Lord Elsen shook my shoulder and glared at me. I guessed that he wanted to know what the things were for. I mimed speaking into the phone and the radio, and firing the gun. He was most interested in the gun.

  “I tried to fire it for him, but it wouldn’t even fire in simulated mode. I didn’t know then that magic was real here. I didn’t understand that it could make something not work.

  “He had them take me to a room in the servants’ quarters. They kept me locked up, but they fed me, gave me clothes and medicine for the burns. And every day a man came and taught me Katoah. I found out Lord Elsen’s name then, and when he had me brought to him one day, to see what I was learning, I found out why he was keeping me prisoner.”

  “Why was he?” Phillip sounded genuinely interested.

  “He wanted to know more about how the gun and the other things worked. He was thinking that if he used magic together with science, he could make weapons no one else had.”

  Phillip’s eyes flickered. “So how did you get here?”

  “I planned an escape. Every time they took me outside for exercise, I noted the placement of doors and windows. Then one day a guard was careless. I managed to steal a tin fork and made a lock pick from it. I opened the door to my room in the middle of the night, and whacked the sleeping guard with the water pitcher.”

  Her eyes opened wide with reluctant admiration. “Did you kill him?”

  “I didn’t stay around to find out. I had a couple of close calls—I had to kill a sentry—but I made it out. I ran all that night and all the next day with very little rest. Luckily for me, I finally came to the Great Barrier.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I walked along it for about half a day but I was having trouble staying on my feet because I hadn’t had any food or water in days. I had just started across an open stretch of ground when a mounted party broke from some trees and headed straight for me. I recognized Lord Elsen’s livery, and I tried to run, but I fell. I was lying there in the dirt when a raiding party came out from behind the Barrier and set upon my attackers. They drove them off, and then they took me before the Great Mage.”

  “Your benefactor?” Her tone implied skepticism.

  “Yes. By then I could make myself understood. When the Great Mage moved close and put his hand on my shoulder, I thought I’d be tortured again, but it wasn’t like that. If anything, he made me feel well.”

  “Mages are all alike,” Phillip said bitterly. “Those who work magic prey upon the rest of us, who have no power to resist them.”

  It seemed a harsh philosophy considering her circumstances. “And yet you served a dark lord?”

  She shrugged. “A masterless dog is a stray, free to starve and be whipped by all who see him.”

  “So you feel no loyalty to Lord Marcellin?”

  “I was raised in his ward. I was working on a farm when a squad came through looking for men. I didn’t try to get away. Better a demon you know than one who’s new to you—and better him than Lord Elsen.”

  Joe was wondering how to ask her if Lord Marcellin’s officers had known she was a woman without setting off a vituperative reply when Phillip asked him a question.

  “What about you? If you’re truly from this strange other world, why do you owe loyalty to the old mage?”

  “When he first met me,” Joe said, “he told me that when people came through from my world, they were stuck here. And then he explained to me how all the land for hundreds of miles is governed by half a dozen mages, each holding ward over his or her land. He told me I was free to go if I liked, but that if I stayed in his ward, I’d have to swear an oath of loyalty and obedience to him. When I decided to stay, I had to kneel in front of him, put my hands in his, and swear to be loyal and obey him.”

  “And have you done so?”

  “Yes,” Joe said, “until the day I saw a boy lying wounded and in danger of bleeding to death. I forgot my orders then, and went to bring him to safety.”

  Phillip said nothing for a moment, and then she hunched one shoulder in a defensive gesture. “I said thank you.”

  “I heard you. I also heard you threaten to kill me. Why would you want to kill me?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know anything except I have to keep away from you!”

  Joe grinned humorlessly. “The Great Mage has made that rather difficult.”

  Before she could answer, the door swung open. Joe jumped to his feet, well aware that there was only one person who would enter his room without knocking.

  “Good evening.” the Great Mage glanced from the tray on the bed to Joe’s dinner dishes on the dresser and smiled. “It’s nice to see the two of you sharing a meal so amicably.”

  “Let me out of here!” Phillip said. “You have no right to make me stay here with him!”

  “Don’t I?” the Great Mage asked.

  “No!” she shouted back. She waved a hand at Joe. “He’s been telling me how Lord Elsen kept him prisoner. What makes you any better?”

  “Have you been tortured or deprived in any way?”

  “No.”

  “And has Joe offered you any insult or subjected you to any indignity?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then, it seems I’m at least slightly better than Lord Elsen.”

  She ground her teeth and looked around her as if she were searching for a weapon.

  “Phillip!” the Great Mage said sharply. “Would you like to wear this?” He signaled the servant behind him, and the woman held up a pale blue, low-cut gown adorned with lace.

  Phillip looked utterly revolted. “Take it away. I don’t want it.”

  “If you don’t behave,” the mage said, “I’ll have the sisters remove your clothes, and you’ll have to wear this dress or go naked.”

  She said nothing.

  “There will be no more shouting or cursing at Joe,” the Great Mage said. “There will be no more crockery thrown—or anything else.”

  She still said nothing.

  “I won’t ask for an oath,” the mage went on. “Time enough for that when you’re ready to leave on your quest.”

  “Quest?” she said. “I’m going on a quest?”

  “Oh, n
ot alone,” the mage said. “Joe is going with you.”

  “Bloody hell!” Joe said.

  The Great Mage smiled but didn’t comment.

  “Why should I go on a quest for you?” Phillip demanded. “I owe you nothing, old man.”

  “I know you feel no loyalty toward me,” the mage said. “But I also know you’ll keep an oath if you give it. If you complete this quest with Joe, then I’ll let you go free once it’s done.”

  “What quest?” Joe demanded. “Where are we going and why?”

  The Great Mage managed to look both solemn and amused. “To the mountains in the west. I need to make a potion that requires a half dozen dragon’s scales. You’re going to fetch them for me.”

  Four: A Dragon

  Joe hefted his pack onto his back and shifted its weight to get the best balance. The weight of the sword and its sheath still felt unfamiliar. Beside him the woman known as Phillip also hefted her pack, but unlike Joe, her only weapon was the knife on her belt. The Great Mage hadn’t wanted to arm her too thoroughly.

  “Ready?” Joe asked.

  She nodded, and the two of them set off again, heading westward into the setting sun.

  Joe glanced at her as they trudged along. She insisted on walking several yards away from him, but at least she kept up well. Mother Wilhelmina had assured him her wound was healed enough for her to travel.

  Joe still had difficulty in seeing Phillip as a woman, even after more than three weeks in her company. The image he saw in his mind refused to mesh with what he saw with his eyes. Even now, if he shut his eyes and thought about her, he almost expected to see a different person when he opened them.

  Back in the real world, a girl he had known in high school had surprised everyone by moving to California and then returning six years later as a man. And Joe was pretty sure one of the women he had known at work had started life as a man. But those people had seemed well adapted; they had resolved the issue, and it showed. With Phillip, there seemed to be a constant mental war going on. Joe wished he knew who all the combatants were. Somehow, Phillip seemed to think he was one of them.

  Joe sighed and studied the landscape of rolling hills. They had been hiking all day. The morning of the day before, Philip had sworn to the Great Mage that she would help Joe acquire six dragon’s scales and not harm him along the way. The mage had provided supplies, a map, and a mounted escort as far as the Great Barrier.

  They had left the Barrier fort at the western-most gate that morning, along with the soldiers of their escort. Joe had been sorry to leave them, but Phillip had scoffed at his caution, agreeing with the mage that, if one was to go on a quest, one went alone and on foot.

  “May I see the map, please?” Joe asked after they had walked some distance further.

  Phillip stopped, shrugged off her pack, and then pulled the leather map case from it. She handed the cylinder to Joe.

  “Let’s see where we are,” he said, unrolling the large vellum sheet. The map showed the entire valley in detail. A thin red line marked their route, due west from the palace. The line cut through the oddly-shaped oval representing the magic-reinforced wall known as the Great Barrier. From the gate, the line headed straight for the mountains. They would have to be careful; straying too far south would cause them to wander into Lady Merida’s ward. It took the likes of Lord Elsen to make the Dark Lady seem a reasonable neighbor.

  Lord Elsen’s ward was, thankfully, well to the north. Lord Marcellin’s ward lay to the east, beyond the Great Barrier—little chance of straying there by mistake.

  The necessity of traveling together required acknowledgement of each other’s need for privacy. Back at the palace, Joe had left the room and summoned a servant when Phillip needed to use the chamber pot. Here, whichever of them felt a need simply wandered off for a few minutes.

  On their second day of hiking, they entered the foothills of the mountains. The ground sloped upward steeply, and walking took more effort. Fir trees grew thickly on either side of the trail; their fragrance reminded Joe of Christmas.

  Late in the afternoon, they came to a village in a clearing. The man who came out to greet them looked wary, but the sight of the Great Mage’s seal on their map case must have put his mind at rest, as they were welcomed.

  A farmer gave them a hot supper, a welcome meal after three days of trail rations. Over a bowl of mutton stew, Joe asked about dragons.

  “Oh, no,” the farmer’s wife said. “We don’t get dragons here abouts. You have to go higher into the mountains. They nest in caves.”

  “I hear there’s one that lives on Dindale Peak,” the farmer volunteered. “They say the Dindalers feed it sheep to keep it away from their children.”

  “They should have killed it long ago,” his wife said. “Nasty, fierce things, dragons.”

  “Now, now,” the man said in soothing tones. “You know as how the Great Mage doesn’t hold with killing dragons.”

  The woman sniffed. “Well enough to sit in his lowland palace and say not to kill them. Us who live nearer the threat feel differently.”

  The farmer changed the subject, and Joe didn’t mention dragons again.

  They slept in the farmer’s barn. In the morning, Joe and Phillip turned their steps toward Dindale Peak.

  The slope grew steep, and the going got slower, but the trail was well marked and easy to follow. They stopped to rest more frequently. At mid-morning, they came to a wide, flat place on the trail.

  “Why don’t you rest here a moment?” Joe said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Phillip slipped off her pack and sat down on a boulder with an exhalation of relief while Joe walked off to find some privacy.

  After thoroughly watering a pine tree, he had headed back through the underbrush when he heard an angry shout and a scream of pain. He broke into a run, but slowed as he came in sight of the boulder.

  Two men held Phillip pinned against the rock. A third man facing them held his right hand to his own left arm. Blood seeped through his fingers. All three men wore ragged, dirty tunics and worn breeches. Clearly they weren’t soldiers.

  “You little bastard!” the third man said.

  Joe ducked behind a tree and slipped off his pack as he peered around to watch what was happening.

  The wounded man hit Phillip hard with a backhanded blow to her face. “Make sure he doesn’t have any more knives,” he ordered, knotting a rag around his arm.

  The shorter of the two men frisked Phillip briskly, and then uttered a harsh bark of laughter. “He’s not a boy; he’s a girl!”

  “What?” the wounded man said.

  “He’s a girl!” The short man patted Phillip’s crotch. “There’s nothing, Max. No balls, and no dick.”

  Phillip tried to pull away, but the taller man held her firmly. He was a very large man, with a scraggly beard, even more unkempt than his companions.

  “Take his clothes off,” Max said. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Joe debated the best way to attack. All three men were armed; the one called Max held his sword in his hand, while the tall man had sheathed his, and the shorter one had dropped his weapon onto the ground.

  Joe pulled his sword as silently as he could, but he knew he wasn’t a good swordsman. On the other hand, he had the benefit of surprise and his own skills. He started to maneuver closer.

  The short man had slit Phillip’s shirt and ripped it off, revealing her half-healed wound and a long strip of cloth wound tightly around her breasts.

  “Ho, ho, you’re right, Ulric! Our fresh-faced lad is a woman.” Max’s voice rose gleefully. “And she has a pretty trinket we can keep as a souvenir.”

  “I get her first!” Ulric said. “Last time Gavin nearly killed the woman before I got my turn.”

  “Don’t be so impatient,” Max said. “Let’s look her over.”

  He pulled his knife. Joe prepared to rush in from where he was, but all Max did was slit the bindings, leaving Phillip naked from the waist up.r />
  She had small breasts, but they were round and firm, and there was no denying her womanhood. Joe flitted behind a tree. He was close, but none of the three seemed to have noticed him.

  Phillip was cursing her captors with a stream of obscenities that would have made some soldiers blush.

  Max merely grinned in appreciation. “She’ll put up a good fight. I think I’ll go first.”

  If Ulric was going to protest, he lost the chance when Joe thrust the point of his sword into the outlaw’s back and out his abdomen, before the man could utter a word.

  Joe had never used a sword in anger; he was unprepared when Ulric dropped like a stone and the sword slipped from Joe’s hand. Joe stood empty handed as the two startled outlaws turned toward him.

  Max bellowed an angry curse and rushed to attack. Joe scrambled out of his way. Gavin let go of Phillip to draw his sword, which proved a fatal mistake, as Phillip quickly snatched up Ulric’s blade and ran Gavin through from behind, much as Joe had done to the weapon’s owner, except she kept her grip.

  Joe was too busy trying to keep out of Max’s reach to pay attention to her. Only when Phillip shouted at him did he realize she was holding two swords.

  “Catch!” She tossed him Gavin’s weapon and then immediately charged Max.

  The outlaw turned on her with ferocity, but Phillip held her own, parrying Max’s thrusts with a good deal more skill than Joe displayed when he joined in. After a few close calls, Phillip renewed her attack and forced the enraged outlaw on the defensive.

  In the end, Joe served merely to draw the outlaw’s attention and leave him vulnerable to Phillip’ thrust. She sliced into Max’s chest as he turned to deflect Joe’s enthusiastic if inexpert blows.

  The outlaw fell to the ground and gasped a curse. Phillip kicked his sword from his hand, leaned over him, and slit his throat in one motion. She straightened up, breathing hard and sweating, and gave Joe an angry glare. “You trained soldiers?” Her tone made it clear she considered this an unlikely happenstance.

  “Yes,” Joe said, “but not with swords. My specialty is unarmed combat.” He bent over Ulric to make certain the man was dead, and then did the same to Gavin.