Magician's Heir

by D Bruce Cotton

  “One day he rode in his carriage through the village, surveying his domain, when he happened upon a wedding between a young fisherman named Tomas and the most beautiful girl in the village, Elsbeth. The two loved one another and had at long last reached the age of consent.

  “Baron Eddingford ordered the carriage halted to watch the ceremony. But when he saw Elsbeth, his heart filled with lust. ‘Why,’ he thought, ‘should a poor fisherman have such a beautiful creature all to himself? Why should she spend her nights sleeping in a straw hovel at the side of a man stinking of fish when she can live with me, surrounded by the finest silks and perfumes?’ Straightaway, he decided she would be his.

  “He stepped down from the carriage and ordered his guards to seize Elsbeth. Tomas tried to stop them. But unarmed and alone amongst the terrified villagers, his efforts instead resulted in a beating. With the young girl in tears, they forced Elsbeth into Baron Eddingford’s carriage. Before he left, the baron tossed a gold coin in the dirt by the bloodied young fisherman. ‘That,’ he sneered, ‘should be sufficient payment for your troubles.’

  “Baron Eddingford made a serious mistake in leaving young Tomas alive. That very night, Tomas scaled the castle walls. Using a secret passage told to him by his grandfather, one of the laborers forced to build the castle, he made his way to the baron’s chambers.

  “The next morning, they found the baron dead with a filleting knife planted to the hilt in his chest. Pinned beside it, a note read, ‘Consider the debt for my troubles paid in full.’ On the baron’s forehead lay a gold coin. Elsbeth and Tomas vanished, never to be seen again.”

  “Quite a story,” commented Adam.

  “Oh, but it does not end there, young sir,” the old maid replied. “The baron’s men fought among themselves for power, but none had strength enough to hold it for long. Abandoned after many years, the castle fell into disrepair. Not until many years later did the Council of Mages take it for their own. Many additions have been built over the centuries—floors added, wings extended. It is a sprawling old castle and becoming lost takes little effort. There are hallways ending in blank walls, stairs doubling back to the same floor,” her voice lowered to a whisper, “and many believe the ghost of Baron Eddingford haunts the castle. It is said he walks these halls still, yearning to avenge his death and retake the prize stolen from him.”

  Adam gave a nervous laugh. “Sounds like the gold coin didn’t make him happy after all. But what happened to Elsbeth and Tomas?”

  “No one knows, young sir. Many believe they ran far away and lived a happy and fruitful life together. Though they never returned, legend says the great mage, Makzendrix, was their progeny, serving as protector of Tantris in their stead.”

  Entranced by the story, Adam paid scant attention to their route. He now realized he had no idea how to get back to the main hall. Their long walk brought them to a door which looked no different from the many others they’d passed. Marisa pulled a heavy old key from the pocket of her apron, unlocking and opening the door. Inside he found a large and beautifully appointed bedroom. A massive featherbed dominated the chambers, sitting across from a crackling fireplace. But at the far end...

  “Is that a bathtub?” asked Adam. “A real bathtub?”

  “It is, young sir,” replied Marisa with a knowing smile. “And if you hurry, you will find the water is still nice and hot. I will give you time to soak before I have dinner brought up.”

  Adam spoke with genuine warmth in his voice. “Thank you, Marisa. I haven’t felt clean in... well, in what seems like a very long time.” He gave the old woman time to close the door before shedding his grimy clothes and lowering himself with care into the scalding water. The water’s heat soaked into his cold bones. Tight, overstressed muscles loosened and relaxed. After scrubbing himself from head to toe with a white cake of perfumed soap and a horsehair brush, he lay back to enjoy the luxuriant feel of the hot water.

  Only after the water cooled did he climb out. He dried himself with a plush towel before donning clean linen undershorts and a robe he found on the bed. A knock came at the door just as he sat down in a chair by the fireplace. Before he could answer, in strode Marisa with a tray laden with food.

  The heavenly smell of roast chicken made Adam’s stomach rumble. Marisa pulled back a cloth napkin to reveal cheese, bread, fruit and the chicken he’d smelled, its skin brown and crisp.

  She laughed. “Ah, I thought you might be hungry.” She placed the tray on a small table next to Adam. “Now, you must eat while we clean up.” Marisa clapped once and three young maids entered the room, buckets in hand.

  Adam watched as the three women pulled loose a heavy iron lid covering a recessed drain on the opposite side of the tub. They used the buckets to scoop out the dirty bathwater and pour it down the drain. Then, under Marisa’s direction, they recapped the drain, cleaned the tub, gathered up Adam’s dirty clothing and bustled out the door.

  Marisa waited until Adam pushed himself away from the table. Then she gathered up the dinner tray and headed for the door. She paused a moment before leaving and asked, “Is the room to your satisfaction, young sir?”

  “Sure, it’s great,” he answered. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, you seemed so interested in my story about the history of Eddingford Castle, I thought you might find this room of particular interest. Many believe this is the very room where they found Baron Eddingford, murdered in his bed.”

  Adam’s eyes opened wide as the door closed with a soft click.

  Chapter 12, Assassin

  Despite Adam’s fatigue, sleep evaded him. Marisa’s story ran over and over in his head. And it happened in this room, perhaps in this very bed... well, not on this mattress at least. But still, to realize a murder took place right where he tossed and turned...

  In his dreams, Adam was a much older man. He lay in bed as he waited for the young girl, plucked from the arms of her betrothed, to arrive. The power to take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, thrummed through his veins. He tensed, anticipating the night ahead: the sights, the smells, the sheer raw pleasure...

  Wait. What is that smell? He sat up in bed and sniffed. The thick, briny stench of fish permeated the air. Dammit! They had better not bring her up here smelling so! It will ruin my whole night. And hers. He leered at the thought.

  Then something landed hard on his chest. Arms pinned, he couldn’t breathe. Blinking to clear his eyes, he looked up to see the young fisherman, Tomas, straddling his chest. Only a strangled moan escaped his lips as he tried to call for the guards. A flash of silvery light reflected from the metal shaft of the knife held clenched in Tomas’ hand. Only then did the Baron understand the true meaning of power...

  Adam gasped as he struggled to throw off the tangled mess of his blankets. After freeing himself, he sat up in bed and ran his hands through sweaty hair. That dream, he thought. I’ve never had one so vivid, so... so real. It felt like I’d become the Baron! He wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his robe. Marisa might be right. Maybe ghosts do haunt this place.

  Knowing he’d never be able to sleep in the bed again, Adam slipped to the floor and gathered up the tangled blankets. Most he tossed in a heap back on the bed, but a few he kept to make himself a small pallet by the fireplace. He settled himself in front of the warm embers and had just drifted off again when a sharp click startled him awake.

  Some instinct told Adam not to stir, to remain still and quiet. Only his eyes moved as he glanced around the dark room, searching for the source of the noise. His ears caught the faint rustle of fabric. Then a small, black figure appeared, a stark outline against the white sheets piled on his bed.

  Adam saw the quick flash of a knife in an outstretched hand before it plunged again and again into the pile of blankets. Down feathers drifted through the air in a cloud. The assassin stopped at last to paw through the blankets, but found nothing. With a snarl of frustration, the figure turned, searching for its victim. Hot red eyes burned from beneath a heav
y cowl before settling on Adam.

  Discovered, Adam jumped up and placed the small dinner table between himself and the intruder. Then he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Help! Help me! Guards! Someone!”

  The assassin glanced at the door and then back at Adam. “You will not escape us this time, worm!” The dark figure lunged over the table and swung its arm in a wide arc, knife extended. Adam flinched back, the knife missing his face by only a fraction. Then he felt a sting in the tip of his nose and a drop of blood fell onto his robe. Too close!

  Adam danced back. He used the bed, an end table, an overturned chair, whatever might act as a shield between himself and the assassin. All the while, he shouted for help. Desperate to slow his attacker, he threw books, an empty chamber pot, anything near to hand. But he’d run out of room, had no more options. The intruder herded him toward the far end of the room, away from the door. Blood from superficial cuts to his arms and hands already soaked the shredded arms of his robe.

  The back of his knees smacked against the edge of the bathtub and he had to scramble to the other side while ducking another swipe of the blade. He stubbed his toe hard against something on the floor and almost fell again. Glancing down, he saw the iron drain cover. He grasped the thick iron ring, yanking the cover free. Heavy, the drain cover felt good in Adam’s hand. Now, if only he could come up with a distraction...

  Shouts echoed down the hallway, followed by heavy pounding on the door. The assassin spun toward the noise. It proved just the diversion Adam needed. With the heavy cover held high, he swung with all his strength.

  The iron cover smashed into the base of the assassin’s neck with a loud crunch, knocking the killer to the floor. Adam’s momentum carried him down on top of the intruder. The blow knocked back the cowl to reveal the drain cover sunk deep into the assassin’s neck and shoulder. Only inches separated the two as Adam looked at the face and gasped, “Marisa?”

  He stumbled back, sickened by the fact he’d killed the old woman. The shouts and pounding grew louder, and he roused himself to go unlatch the door and let them in. But as he stumbled toward the door, some half-forgotten memory tugged at him. Something he should remember...

  His mind flashed back to Logen’s tale. Lieutenant Siminz had struck Meloch with his sword, splitting the evil mage almost in two. "There was no blood!" Siminz had shouted.

  Marisa, with the iron cover embedded in her neck... he’d seen no blood!

  Adam spun. Marisa stood over him, red eyes burning like the hottest pits of hell, evil smile freezing the marrow in his bones. “My master’s power is not so easily defeated, worm!” Marisa swung the knife, but the weight of the iron cover spoiled her balance. Adam skipped back far enough to avoid the weapon, but his back slammed against the bed. One hand closed on a blanket and Adam threw it in desperation.

  The blanket spread wide, entangling Marisa in its folds. The knife sliced at the fabric as she fought to escape the thin material. But it gave Adam the time he needed. He ran to the door and pulled back the heavy latch.

  Soldiers spilled into the dark room. For one stunned moment, they stared, unable to believe the scene before them. Then Marisa screamed and charged. As she swung the knife, their training took over. Swords hacked and cut. Dismembered piece by piece, the Dark Mage’s servant didn’t stop moving until her head rolled loose across the carpet.

  ADAM SAT IN A CHAIR in Aristomus’ chambers, sipping a hot cup of tea and warming himself before the fire. Though healed, he still wore the cut and blood-splattered robe. He heard an argument going on outside, but paid it scant attention. Instead, he focused his thoughts on what happened, trying to wring some sense from it all.

  The Dark Mage wanted him dead. Him! Adam Gray, an amateur magician from Elliston, Ohio. It made no sense. I’m nothing; a nobody, and yet...

  There had to be a reason Max approached him in his store. The ‘magic beans’ that had somehow transported Adam to this strange land came from him. And Max mentioned something else, too, hadn’t he? Something about watching him, trying to determine if he was the one? But the one what?

  And then he remembered the display of power he’d shown at Codtown. Though he tried to deny it, the use of such power left him exhilarated. It had also left him near death. And try as he might, whether on his own or with Aristomus’ help, he hadn’t raised one small flicker since.

  What good is power you can’t control? he asked himself. Dangerous is what it is; to myself and everyone around me. I’m like a walking time bomb just waiting for the wrong time to go off.

  Aristomus stormed into the room and slammed the door behind him. “Damnation!” he fumed. “An agent of the Dark Mage lives right under our noses for decades! Here! Inside the Council of Mages itself! How is that possible?” He paced back and forth across the room. Adam paid it no mind. By now he understood it helped the mage think.

  “What worries me is if Marisa was an agent, might there not be others? How can we fight the Dark Mage if we cannot trust each other?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” said Adam. “Neither Marisa nor Meloch bled when cut. If these creatures are all like them...”

  “...then we need only test everyone to make sure they bleed!” finished the mage, delighted. “Excellent, Adam. I like a man who uses his brain as well as the Power. Well done!” Aristomus walked out, once again leaving Adam to his thoughts. When he returned a short time later, he seemed in better spirits.

  “Well, that is done at least,” he reported. “By tomorrow afternoon, everyone in the castle—servants, guards, even the Council mages—will have had their fingers pricked. We will know soon if there are any more agents in our midst.”

  “I don’t get it, Aristomus. Why did she come after me?” Adam rubbed his face with both hands. “What makes me so important?”

  “If only I knew, Adam,” sighed the mage as he pulled a second chair next to the fire. “But it now appears obvious the Dark Mage wants you dead. The assaults on Lakeshore and Codtown I at first deemed random attacks. But after tonight... well, I now believe them to be attempts to kill you.”

  “What?” Adam sat up straight, a look of panic on his face. “But I’m nobody, Aristomus! There’s got to be some kind of mistake!”

  “Perhaps. But mistake or not, the Dark Mage risked a well-placed servant to see you killed. Only by luck did we discover you missing. Your assigned apartment is near my rooms, so I stopped to check on you after meeting with High-Mage Serton. Concerned at your absence, I looked for Marisa. By the time we sounded the alarm and searched, we came almost too late.”

  “How did she get in? I know I locked the door. I had to open it to let in the soldiers.”

  “Aye. It appears a secret passage leads to the room. The entrance is concealed behind a bookcase. Had she not left it ajar, we might never have found it. Soldiers investigate the passage even now to see where else it leads.”

  “The secret passage used by Tomas to kill Baron Eddingford?”

  “Ah, she told you the story, did she?” nodded the mage. “Aye. No doubt Tomas used such a means of ingress all those centuries ago.”

  “So what now?”

  Aristomus turned and placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “For now, you will stay here and get some much needed rest. Magic guards my rooms and I have placed several soldiers outside for additional protection.” The mage raised a finger to forestall Adam’s protest. “Do not worry. I personally tested all the guards outside.

  “Tomorrow you go before the Council of Mages. At this point, your innocence would seem a given. From there... well, perhaps it is best not to think too far ahead. We will take council and decide how best to thwart the Dark Mage’s plans. Try to sleep, Adam.”

  With those words, the mage rose and left the room. Adam gave a deep sigh and stared into the fire. I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight, he thought.

  Chapter 13, Council of Mages

  Despite a lack of sleep, Adam rose early. Discarding the soft robe he’d found on the bed the ni
ght before, he washed up in a small bathroom. Someone had cleaned his clothes, so he dressed in his black jeans and the now familiar white linen shirt. After stepping into his worn boots, he pulled the laces tight as though readying himself for a confrontation. Aristomus’ assurances notwithstanding, the upcoming audience with the Council worried him.

  A small meal of fruit and bread rested atop a table near the fireplace. Adam glanced at it, but his nervous stomach convinced him to pass. Instead, he returned to the chair by the fireplace and stared at the banked embers. He closed his eyes, took deep, slow breaths, and tried to calm his jittery nerves.

  A sharp rap at the door startled him. Aristomus strode into the room, looking first at the bed before he noticed Adam by the fireplace.

  “Ah, Adam. I thought to find you still abed. I trust you got some sleep?” Before Adam answered, the mage continued, “I hoped the Council might allow you more time after the previous night. But circumstances have made them more anxious still to speak with you.”

  Adam rose to his feet with a sigh. “It’s okay, Aristomus. I’m ready.”

  The mage nodded, mouth tight with concern, but ushered Adam through the door. Outside, they picked up an escort of two soldiers who fell in just behind them. Whether there to protect him or because he technically remained a prisoner, Adam didn’t know.

  The group’s path wound down long hallways and up several staircases. It didn’t take long for Adam to become lost. At last, they arrived in a wide room well lit by sunshine gleaming through tall, narrow windows at each end. A set of double doors stood just ahead, framed by two soldiers who stood at attention to either side. At a signal from the mage, one soldier slipped inside, returning a few moments later to open both doors wide in invitation.

  Adam and Aristomus entered, and both doors closed on silent hinges. A long, heavy wooden table dominated the wide room. Nine figures in dark robes sat at the table, their features shadowed by thick cowls. The center figure motioned to two overstuffed chairs across from him.