Magician's Heir

by D Bruce Cotton

  Though still early evening, Adam yawned. He grabbed a handful of dates, kicked off the sandals and climbed into bed. The sweet fruit lost its flavor as he considered the earlier interrogation. He was out of his element here. The only people he knew were Osler and his captors and he knew even less about the land. The basic laws of physics had nothing in common with home. This place had magic—true magic. He shook his head at the thought. In his old life, he’d have given his right arm to find real magic. But reality made him less certain. This place carried great danger. And if Osler had told the truth, he’d arrived at a terrible time.

  Adam gave another huge yawn. Well, I’m not likely to figure this all out tonight, he thought. Guess I’d better get to sleep. He blew out the candle beside his bed, plunging the room into darkness.

  Chapter 6, Early Departure

  The knock came very early. Head still fuzzy from sleep, Adam glanced over at the window and saw nothing but darkness. “This is ridiculous,” he grumbled.

  Cold air filled the room. Goosebumps covered his skin as he swung his feet off the bed and onto the icy wooden floor. “Come in,” he croaked, mouth dry and pasty. Several days had passed since he’d last brushed his teeth and it felt like fungus coated the inside of his mouth.

  Through the door walked a young woman with a tray of fruit, bread and another pitcher. Clothed in a black wool dress and white apron, a long, thick braid of black hair hung halfway down her back. It surprised Adam as he’d expected to see another guard at the door.

  The maid exchanged her tray for the empty one on the table, then curtsied and said, “Master Aristomus asks you break your fast now, m’lord. He plans to begin the journey to Seir as soon as possible.”

  Adam thanked her for the food. Running fingers through the thick stubble on his cheeks, he asked about a shave. “And maybe a toothbrush?”

  “Of course, m’lord,” she responded with another curtsy. “Master Aristomus bid me show you every courtesy.” She walked out of the room and closed the door. Adam sat down to eat.

  The maid returned a few minutes later with a small bundle she placed on the corner of the bed. She left, shutting the door behind her, as Adam tried to decide how to eat a small wrinkled fruit which looked like a purple banana. Dropping it to his plate with a sigh, he got up to see what she’d brought. Along with some towels, he found a white linen shirt, a small straight razor and a tiny, wooden box containing a thin paste with a strong smell of lemons. A partially open panel on top of the box revealed a small compartment. He reached inside and pulled out a short, wrinkled tube. Flexible, like rubber, and about three inches long, the tube had an opening at one end. To Adam, it looked like someone had cut the finger from a rubber glove. When he peered closer, he saw tiny, stiff bristles covering the surface. Only then did he realize they intended him to brush his teeth with the odd contraption!

  Adam carried the bundle into the bathroom and laid it on the small table. The rubber tube he slid onto his index finger, wetting it in the stone basin. Dipping a reluctant finger in the lemony paste, he stuck it in his mouth. The paste tasted as good as it smelled. And the flexibility of the finger brush allowed him to clean his teeth about as well as any toothbrush he’d ever used. Once finished, he rinsed and dried the finger brush and put it back into the box.

  Now to tackle this beard. The small straight razor he held awkwardly in one hand, wondering why they didn’t consider it a weapon. For just a moment, he pictured himself facing off against a sword with nothing but the straight razor. Guess they don’t have much to worry about.

  Splashing water on his face, he used the bar of soap to lather his beard. With a gentle touch, he scraped the razor over his cheeks, nicking himself only once.

  The next few minutes he spent taking another bath. The cold water left him shivering as he padded naked back in to the bedroom to dress. He pulled on his now dry underwear and jeans along with the new linen shirt. Then he sat down to pull on his socks and boots.

  As he stood back up, Adam noticed his jacket, now clean, lay across the bed. Someone must have brought it in as he washed up. He slipped it on and put the folded straight razor and box of paste in one pocket. Then he sat at the table and stared at the door.

  The wait didn’t last long. After a few moments, another knock came. The door opened before he could stand and in stepped a guard. “This way, please,” he said, motioning Adam out the door.

  Well, at least the guards are a little more polite now, he thought. Maybe things are looking up. He stepped outside and walked along the hallway to the stairwell. The guard stopped him at the bottom of the stairs and motioned toward a second door off the main floor landing. Outside, he found a yard attached to a small stable behind the main building. The light of several torches revealed men leading horses out.

  Though both wore bulky but well-worn travel cloaks, Adam recognized Aristomus and Henslow nearby as they conversed in low voices. The guard took him straight over to the two men. Both fell silent as soon as they noticed him. Henslow looked at him with a sharp frown. After a night’s rest, Aristomus appeared more jovial.

  “Ah, good morrow to you, Adam Gray. I trust you slept well?”

  “Well enough,” responded Adam. “Look, I’m not sure where I stand, but I’d appreciate it if you just called me Adam.”

  Aristomus grinned and gave a slight bow. “As you wish. I, myself, have never been one to stand on formality. Please, call me Aristomus.”

  Adam breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. So how long will it take to reach... Seir, did you say?”

  “With luck, only a week,” said Aristomus. “But these days, our luck is seldom good. There are, of course, the normal hazards of the road. But attacks by the forces of the Dark Mage are on the increase.” He looked over at Henslow. “Captain, will you have one of your men saddle a horse for Adam?”

  Henslow glared at Adam for a long moment before turning away, mumbling under his breath.

  “What is it with him?” Adam asked. “He hasn’t liked me from the moment we met. Have I offended him somehow?”

  “You must forgive the good Captain,” responded the mage. “His is a sad tale; one he would no doubt mislike me sharing.” Aristomus took a quick glimpse over at the stable and then turned back to Adam. “But as we shall travel together for the foreseeable future, I think it best you understand his situation.

  “Captain Henslow lost his wife, Meaghan, and newborn daughter some 15 years ago—both during childbirth. Only he and his son, Jaspher, remained. Henslow clung all the more to the boy after the loss.” Aristomus’ face took on a distant look. “Jaspher was a son to make any father proud: intelligent, strong, handsome and devoted to his father. Henslow taught him all he knew of the art of war and young Jaspher proved an excellent student. He made Lieutenant of the Guard at an early age; a full three years earlier than had Henslow himself. Ah, the man showed such pride in his son’s accomplishments...

  “But Jaspher had one failing, as do most young men of his tender years. His impatience gave way to impulsiveness. And it is here this sad tale turns tragic.

  “Only two months ago, under cover of darkness, a pack of Unsouled attacked Lakeshore. Not a large force, only two or three score at most, they appeared alone, unaccompanied by a Dread. In such situations, the Unsouled are seldom a difficult challenge. With everyone safe behind the walls, archers can dispatch such creatures with ease. But Jaspher had other plans. With thoughts of glory in his head, he gathered his men and rode through the front gate. They charged the Unsouled, determined to end the threat without delay.

  “But the supposed slaughter turned instead into an ambush. A Dread had hidden itself over the rise. It took control of the Unsouled, attacking Jaspher’s company. Three of his men died; the other seven, and Jaspher himself, they took captive.

  “Frantic, Henslow still could not set out right away. The risk of another ambush held him back from risking more lives. But at first light, he gathered his men and rode straightaway in pursuit of the raider
s.

  “The Dread made no efforts to cover its tracks. They headed northeast, straight toward Mount Dismay. Desperate to find his son, Henslow nonetheless had the lives of his men to consider. Forced to travel slowly to avoid ambush, they hunted the marauders over several sleepless days and nights, but to no avail. When they at last arrived at the foothills of Mount Dismay, their mounts lathered and near exhaustion, the company encountered a small group of eight Unsouled.”

  Adam looked at Aristomus with horror in his eyes, “No...”

  Nodding, the mage replied, “Aye. Jaspher and his men awaited them. The Dark Mage had consumed their souls and sent them to fight against their would-be rescuers. Rather than allow him to remain the Dark Mage’s servant, Henslow slew his own son.

  “Upon their return, his men reported they could hear the Dark Mage laughing. I fear Captain Henslow hears his laughter still.

  “So based on your... introduction to Captain Henslow, you can appreciate his antipathy toward you. He is a man obsessed with a desire for revenge against the Dark Mage and anyone he perceives to be a follower.”

  “What kind of monster would do that to another human being?”

  “The Dark Mage is indeed a monster,” replied Aristomus. “Callous, cruel and without mercy.”

  Adam no longer wondered why Henslow treated him like his personal enemy. To him, Adam was the enemy. Right then he resolved to show more patience in the face of the Captain’s anger.

  A soldier walked up, interrupting his thoughts. In one hand he held the reins to a black stallion. “This is Raven, from Captain Henslow’s personal stable,” said the soldier as he handed Adam the reins.

  Not a short man, Adam’s head reached only as high as the gigantic animal’s shoulder. He glanced over at Aristomus, the uncertainty in his face plain to see. The mage motioned for him to mount, murmuring, “Captain Henslow watches. I think he would not take it well if you refused this gift.”

  Adam looked over his shoulder and saw Henslow standing among a cluster of his men, arms crossed as he watched. Still nervous, Adam stepped closer to the horse. “Okay, boy. Take it easy now.” The horse pawed the ground and snorted, sensing Adam’s fear. Gripping both the reins and saddle horn tight in his left hand, he placed his left foot into the stirrup and stepped up, throwing his right leg over Raven’s back to land in the saddle.

  With a loud whinny, the stallion reared. Adam yelled as he flew backwards and landed flat on his back. Stunned and bruised, he lay there for a moment before accepting a hand up from Aristomus.

  Coarse laughter from Henslow’s men greeted him as he winced and rubbed his back. Then he saw Henslow walking toward him, face stretched in a grin at Adam’s misfortune. The Captain led a second animal. A horse in only the barest sense of the word, the short, sway-backed gray mare shuffled along behind him, a look of confusion on her face as she gazed at Adam.

  Henslow handed over the reins. “This is Belle. Since you proved unable to handle a trained war horse,” he smirked, “I thought a more placid mount would better suit your abilities.”

  The entire stable yard erupted in laughter. Adam’s face burned red as he watched Henslow’s receding back. Trying to show that man patience will prove a lot tougher than I thought.

  THE PARTY MOUNTED UP a short time later. Though uncomfortable, Adam found Belle better suited to his level of horsemanship. At least she showed no signs of rearing. And the animal proved smarter than he’d first given credit. A gentle tug on the reins or nudge from his knee kept her moving in the right direction.

  The complete party numbered twenty. They made their way, single-file, past a gate at the back of the stable yard and through an alley to the main street of Lakeshore. At this early hour, the city appeared almost deserted. Only a few of the local merchants made preparations for business. A fishmonger laid out the early catch on beds of hay and ice. The pungent smell of fish mixed with the aroma of fresh baked bread from a nearby bakery. The horses’ iron-shod hooves echoed off the darkened storefronts.

  They reached the gate a few minutes later. At a signal from Henslow, the portcullis lifted with a rusty iron groan, disappearing by the time the first soldier in line reached the gate. No one spoke. The slight rattle of weapons and armor and the hollow reverberation of hooves on wood as the horses crossed the drawbridge made the only sounds. Once outside the gate, the party formed up into ranks of two or three, and then headed north along a lane splitting off from the main road Adam and Osler had used two days before. Adam rode in the middle of the column, bracketed on each side by Aristomus and Henslow. The mage rode a white gelding, both his staff and Adam’s lashed to the saddle under his leg. To Adam’s right, Henslow sat atop Raven, his spine as stiff as iron.

  Well, no time like the present, thought Adam. Clearing his throat, he began, “Captain, it seems like the two of us got off on the wrong foot. If I’ve said or done anything to offend you, I apologize. And... I want to tell you how sorry I am about your son. Both of my parents died a few years ago, so I know how difficult...”

  Henslow’s head snapped around so fast, Adam heard the vertebrae in his neck pop. Face suffused with scarlet rage, he glared at Adam, a vein pulsing in his forehead. Adam cringed as he came under verbal assault.

  “You know naught of my loss,” Henslow spat between clenched teeth. “But know this: You and your dark master will pay for all you have done! And I vow I will be there to see it happen!” Henslow dug in his heels and spurred his horse to a canter toward the front of the column.

  Adam looked over at Aristomus, who shook his head in puzzlement. “I fear I underestimated the Captain’s anger. Perhaps it would be best if you avoid his company for the present.” Adam nodded in agreement.

  The two rode in mutual silence for a while. The darkness abated somewhat as daylight approached. Adam used the brightening sunlight to study the countryside. As soon as they passed the northern boundary of Lakeshore, he saw Tempest Lake stretching to the horizon on his left. Only a flock of seagulls, their calls loud and raucous, interrupted the blending of water and sky on the far horizon. To his right, tilled fields and the shadowy outline of the Great Forest rolled onward. And ahead, the road continued on far into the distance. Boredom set in fast and he turned to Aristomus for conversation.

  “So what can you tell me about Seir?” he asked. “Is it as large as Lakeshore?”

  “Oh, much larger, Adam,” he replied. “It lies inside Bluster Bay on the Endless Sea. It began as a small fishing village, but over the decades has grown into the largest and most prosperous city in all Tantris. You already know it is the home of the Council of Mages, but Seir is also a massive economic hub. The guilds for many of our largest industries—shipbuilding, textiles, metallurgy, milling, glass—call Seir home.”

  Adam nodded, impressed. “Sounds like a huge city. How many people live there?”

  “Within the city walls, almost 20,000 as of the last census. However, several thousand more live in the outlying areas. By comparison, less than 8,000 call Lakeshore home.”

  Adam had to suppress a chuckle. Size, he realized, didn’t mean much here. Back home, Seir would only have been a fair-sized town.

  “Seir is also home to the Academy of Magic,” Aristomus continued. “Though the reasons for this journey are grim, still I find myself excited at the prospect. My daughter, Alecia, is a teacher at the Academy. It has been too long since I last saw her.”

  “You’re married then?” asked Adam. “Does your wife live in Seir?”

  A look of half-remembered pain passed over the mage’s face. “No. Serah... passed away many years ago.”

  “I’m very sorry,” said Adam. “So, tell me about your daughter.”

  The mage swallowed his pain and gave a wistful smile. “She reminds me somewhat of you, Adam. Headstrong, willful, impulsive... much prettier, you understand,” he said with a grin. “She is tall as well, with auburn hair as hard to tame as she. Alecia is so very much like her mother. Well, you will meet her soon enough. Provid
ed all goes well with the Council of Mages, of course.

  “But I would prefer to learn more of you, Adam. The story you told in the Guild chambers seemed a fanciful tale. Do you truly expect us to believe you come from a world where there is no magic?”

  Adam thought for a few moments before he replied, “It’s... well, it’s complicated, Aristomus. I guess we have a form of magic where I come from. But we call it ‘technology.’”

  The mage frowned at the unfamiliar word, but motioned for Adam to continue.

  “Technology allows us to create small devices to talk over great distances. We can travel from place to place in metal vehicles moving faster than a horse can run. Technology allows us to fly inside giant, winged machines at speeds so fast we can travel from one side of the world to the other in just a few hours. Technology has even allowed us to send men into space. Years before my birth, men from my country walked on the moon.”

  As Adam spoke, Aristomus’ expression changed from slight skepticism to outright disbelief. “Very well, Adam. I understand if you do not wish to speak of yourself. But I am no child. Please, do not think to mislead me by spinning outlandish tales. Remember this: You will need an advocate when we arrive in Seir and I am the closest thing you have to a friend at present.” Aristomus clicked his tongue and moved his horse ahead to ride beside Captain Henslow.

  Adam shook his head in frustration. They wanted him to talk, but wouldn’t believe what he had to say. Guess I’ll be riding alone for a while, he thought.

  The rest of the day dragged by. It didn’t take long for Adam to realize just how unprepared his body was to travel by horseback. Though a gentle mount, not even Belle’s leather saddle proved thick enough as her spine ground back and forth against his tailbone. The sensation mounted until he felt sawn in half.