The Acolyte: Magicians of the Beyond

by Victoria Murata

  “Let’s go,” Jimmu said, picking up the pack with the silk.

  When they arrived at the gatehouse of the castle, a porter who was expecting them met them at the door. Then they were taken upstairs to the solar where they were told to wait.

  In a few minutes the Countess arrived, accompanied by the same three young women who had been with her at yesterday’s Bacchanal. Danica had thought it unlikely that the Countess could possess a dress more ugly and unflattering than the one she had worn the previous day, but obviously she was wrong. The Countess wore a mustard-yellow gown of heavy brocade, fringed with pale pink lace.

  Danica caught Emma’s shocked eyes and had to stifle a smile.

  “Oh! Look at this exquisite costume,” the Countess exclaimed when she saw Danica’s kimono.

  “This is a ceremonial gown worn at court. The Empress has similar ones,” Emma said.

  The Countess and her three ladies walked around Danica, taking in the beauty and value of the kimono. They reached out and felt the material and inspected the handy work that had created it. They looked, openly curious, at Danica’s make-up, her hair, and her odd shoes. Danica kept her eyes downcast, and her head slightly bowed.

  “She is a stunning creature,” the Countess proclaimed. I hope you have brought silk as beautiful as this.

  “We have brought you extraordinary pieces, My Lady,” Emma said.

  “There’s a table over here where you can place the silk,” the Countess said, indicating a long wooden table close to a window. “I’ve been looking forward to your visit. I already have my seamstress working on a new gown from the length I purchased from you yesterday.”

  Danica pictured the lovely material draped over the large, awkward frame of the Countess. She probed her mind, and she saw only anticipation about the silk. As Emma and Jimmu set about displaying the lengths of fabric, Danica took time to carefully peruse each of the minds of the ladies-in-waiting. The first two were full of scattered thoughts. They wondered about the silk, about whether the Countess would buy them more, about young men they were interested in, about their hair, their shoes, their hands, their gowns. They were constantly comparing themselves to the other two, wondering if they were more favored by the Countess, or if they were more beautifully dressed.

  The third lady’s maid, Gloren, was different. Here was a mind that was focused and smoldered with resentment toward the Countess. Danica probed more deeply and found the cause. The Count had removed Gloren’s family from their prestigious position at court and replaced them with a lesser family whose father had betrayed others to get to the seat on the council that Gloren’s father had held. Gloren’s father had protested, and the Count had “bestowed” upon his daughter a prized position as lady’s maid to the Countess. This didn’t fool Gloren. She knew it was a ploy to keep her at court and discourage her father from any traitorous act. She felt like she was constantly watched, and so she was careful to always do and say the proper thing.

  Danica watched Gloren surreptitiously. The young woman was attractive and held herself regally. She had a keen intelligence that she hid behind a timid veneer. Little escaped her discernment. Gloren may end up being helpful.

  The Countess and her ladies were exclaiming over the lengths of silk, and Danica could almost hear the calculations in the Countess’s head. Gloren and one of the others stretched out a length of teal blue silk with coral-colored peonies and lilac-colored butterflies flitting across the material. Another black piece was festooned with bright pink flowers and turquoise fans. While the Countess haggled with Emma and Jimmu, Danica probed the mind of the guard standing near the door. Here was a singularly dull mind, more interested in the next drink than the security and protection of the Countess.

  Most of these men-at-arms aren’t too bright. I haven’t found any loyalty to the Count. The only thing they have in common is fear and greed.

  She planted a suggestion into Emma’s mind and saw Emma glance at her quickly. Danica nodded her head imperceptibly.

  The Countess bought three more lengths of fabric, and, Danica surmised, was pleased with her bargaining power. She thought she had surely bought the pieces at a steep discount, so she was in a good mood.

  As they were folding the silk, Emma asked casually, “Perhaps the Countess would grace my employers with a tour of the castle?”

  The Countess looked momentarily nonplussed, and Emma hastily added, “They’re not used to seeing a castle so grand as this. The royal palace in their homeland is small in comparison.”

  Danica hastened to plant the suggestion of pleased acceptance in the Countess’s mind.

  “That’s a splendid suggestion”. The Countess looked surprised at the words coming from her mouth, but her face flushed with excitement, and she smiled showing large horse-like teeth.

  Emma quickly told Jimmu and Danica about the tour, and after they packed up the remainder of the silk, they followed the Countess and her ladies out the door of the solar.

  Once the Countess got over her surprise at herself for offering these foreigners a tour, she became immersed in her task and enjoyed showing off her wealth and prestige.

  They made their way through the many rooms, chambers, and antechambers until they were high in the lofty upper reaches of the castle.

  “This is our wizard’s domain,” the Countess said, pausing before the arched doorway of the aerie. Emma translated for Jimmu and Danica. “I think it’s cold and drafty up here, but he seems to prefer it,” she said and laughed nervously. She didn’t take them inside the room, but Danica could see everything from the doorway.

  It was a large round room furnished with a narrow bed, a wooden table strewn with papers, a straight-backed chair, and a wardrobe. Four arched windows set close together and open to the air afforded ample light. In the middle of the room was a large clear gazing globe on a sturdy pedestal. Danica caught movement from a dark recess, and gasped when a leopard-like cat stepped into the light. It wore a collar around its neck and was tethered to a ring in the floor with a chain. It gracefully sat on its haunches, regarding the visitors curiously. Danica probed the mind of the Countess and discovered that she was afraid of the cat. Dumone had trained it and took it with him to city functions. Gloren was cynical, believing the feline was a symbol of power meant to put others in fear of the wizard.

  Danica probed the cat’s mind and found casual interest in the strangers. Behind that was an uneasy resentment at its captivity. She planted a picture in its head of a warthog grazing in a clearing. The cat was hidden in the grass and suddenly sprang up and captured the startled creature. The cat was watching her keenly, and she realized it knew the thoughts came from her. As it watched her, she gave it a picture of the warthog, its belly torn open and the cat feasting on its entrails. The cat made a sound somewhere between a low growl and a purr. Its tail twitched back and forth.

  The Countess shuddered. “I don’t understand why the wizard wants to keep this wild animal up here. If it should ever get loose . . .” She quickly led them down the stairs to the lower level and the chapel. Then she showed them the grand hall. It was a long, high-ceilinged room with massive windows on one wall between which were hung imposing paintings of ancestors and former dignitaries.

  “Our council meets in the room beyond that door,” she said, indicating a heavy door at the end of the hall. “In fact, they’re meeting right now about tomorrow’s trial,” she said easily.

  “What trial is that?” Emma feigned ignorance.

  The Countess looked at her in surprise. “Surely you’ve heard about the witch trial? Tomorrow? We have four witches who will stand trial out on the lake. They’ll be thrown into the water to determine their guilt or innocence. Then judgment will be passed.

  “How will throwing them into the water prove anything?” Emma asked innocently.

  “Why if they float, they must be guilty. What woman knows how to keep herself afloat in deep water? It’s not natural,” the Countess exclaimed righteously.

&nbs
p; Danica feigned astonishment at the huge paintings adorning the walls, and slowly walked in the direction of the council chamber, moving from painting to painting. Her mind sent out feelers until she caught impressions from beyond the door. She could dimly hear the Countess behind her, explaining the paintings to Emma and Jimmu, but she closed her mind to it and focused on the thoughts within the chamber.

  Some of the thoughts were ambitious, desperate to prove allegiance to the Count, hoping for promotion. Some of them were disapproving, thinking the trial was promoted by Dumone to cement the Count’s reputation as a man who brooked no disloyalty and who would punish any who spoke against him to the fullest extent of the law. Some scoffed at the law, gone so far afield since the Count had wrested power from the High Priestess over seventeen years ago. One of them, most likely Rone or maybe the Count’s nephew Wolksey, was eagerly anticipating the trial, thinking it would be great fun to watch the women flounder in the water.

  Another person, she couldn’t tell who, obviously belonged to the resistance. His thoughts were of a deadly nature and pictured some of the plans in preparation.

  The Countess babbled on about the paintings, taking the three of them in a circuitous route through the grand hall and ending with a garish portrait of herself in another horrendous gown. Danica believed the painter must have disliked the Countess. He had her perched on a delicate stool that looked like it could splinter easily under her weight. They exited the grand hall through the door they had entered earlier. Danica lost the thoughts she had been straining to catch, and when the last one let go, she clutched at her head. A steady hammering from behind her eyes was getting louder and her vision was slowly blurring. Her eyes glazed over, and she felt faint and nauseated. Jimmu saw her face and caught her just as she began to waiver.

  “I think the morning has been a strain for Nica,” Emma said, helping Jimmu with Danica.

  The Countess looked alarmed. “Bring her in here,” she said, indicating a sitting room off the hallway. “Gloren, get some water.” Gloren left the room quickly.

  Jimmu led Danica to a chair and lowered her carefully. The small room had heavily curtained walls and only a few chairs and a bookcase. A small fireplace in the far wall gave off little warmth.

  The Countess looked suddenly agitated. “Gloren will return shortly with water, and then she will show you out. I must leave for the chapel. It’s terse, and I must not be late for prayers. Thank you for bringing the silk.” She nodded to them in dismissal and left with a flourish, her two ladies following behind.

  Soon Gloren returned with a tray carrying a pitcher of water and three glasses.

  “I hope she’s alright,” she said to Emma, nodding at Danica.

  Danica drank deeply, stood up, and grasped Gloren by the shoulders.

  “We don’t have much time,” she said, surprising Jimmu, Emma and Gloren. “You are watched closely and there’s someone coming to fetch you now. We know about your family, and we are going to make sure that your father is reinstated to his position.”

  “What? How . . .”

  Danica’s eyes flitted to the doorway. “Please, just listen. Tomorrow it’s crucial that you do not go to the lake for the trials. Do you understand?”

  “But I must go. I’m expected to attend to the Countess.”

  “You cannot. Fake an illness. Tell them whatever you need to. I don’t care what you say to convince them. They’ll most likely make someone stay to watch you, but that’s okay. Just don’t go to the lake.”

  They all heard footsteps approaching. Danica dropped her arms and gave Gloren a meaningful look. Gloren looked worried, but she nodded, just as an older woman came into the room.

  “There you are, Gloren. Now then, I’m to help you show these people to the door.”

  Thirty-Six

  The hammering in Danica’s head prevented her from thinking clearly. She was lying on the narrow bed in their room at the inn, a damp cloth covering her eyes. Flashes of light stabbed at her brain, and visions of other-worldly things flitted across the dark screen of memory. She vaguely heard muffled conversation, and then Jimmu was talking to her quietly. She understood he and Emma were going below for lunch. She gathered they would observe Rone. She tried to nod her head, but it hurt. Emma put something in her mouth and made her drink a swallow of water. Soon she surmised she was alone. The pains in her head gradually lessened, and she felt herself drift into darkness.

  Sometime later, Danica felt someone shaking her shoulder.

  “Wake up, Nica! Please!”

  Her headache was mostly gone, but she was loath to open her eyes. She had been having a wonderful dream about riding Star across a blooming meadow in the moonlight.

  “Miss! You must wake up! Your husband and your friend have been arrested!”

  Danica’s eyes flew open and she saw Ansa’s worried face above her. She sat up suddenly, and the last remnant of her headache gave a reproachful stab to the middle of her forehead.

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s past two.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “There was a brawl. Your husband and Emma tried to leave, but they were caught in the middle of it. Your husband punched Rone and a guard, and Emma was able to overpower three others. More guards came in from outside and arrested six people, your husband and Emma among them.”

  Danica stood up. “Where are they now?”

  Ansa took a deep breath. “They’ve been taken to the castle dungeon. Rone wanted to execute your husband right away, but his father, the Count, heard about the brawl and ordered Rone to wait.”

  “What will happen to them?”

  “They’ll stand trial, and it doesn’t look good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ansa wrung her hands. “Your husband went for Rone. He did some damage, so he’ll be up for treason. Emma showed skills no woman has ever had. The Count thinks she is the one who answers the prophecy. He’ll make an example of her and put her on trial with the others tomorrow morning.” Ansa began to cry.

  Danica set her jaw. “I need to get them out of there!” She looked at Ansa. “And you’re going to help me.”

  “Me?”

  “What time do you finish in the pub?”

  “Ten o’clock.”

  “That’s when you’ll meet me at the kitchen door at the back of the castle. I’ll be there to let you in.”

  “What about curfew?”

  “Just be careful. Don’t get caught. If you are, you can make up some excuse, right?”

  “How are you going to get into the castle?”

  “Never mind. Just be there. You’ll be rewarded handsomely.”

  Ansa looked nervous. “I’ll try.”

  “No! You won’t try! You’ll be there.”

  “You might be in danger. There are lots of folk who saw you together with your husband and Emma. It won’t take long for the Count to put two and two together. They’ll be coming for you, Nica.”

  “I’ve figured that out.” Danica found Emma’s pack and quickly changed into her spare clothing--a fairly clean skirt and loose white blouse covered with a laced bodice. She tied the fire belt, her gift from Wilder around her waist and she put her talisman and Lucas’s adze into the pockets of the skirt. Then she tied her hair up on top of her head and removed the dark contacts. She scrubbed her face until all traces of the make-up she had worn with the kimono were gone. The guards would be looking for a foreigner, not a peasant girl. “There’s silk in that pack,” she said, indicating the knapsack she was leaving on the bed. “There’s some spare clothing, too. They’ll find it and take it, but you can keep what’s in this one,” she said to Ansa, thrusting another pack at her.

  “You have blue eyes,” Ansa said wonderingly, taking in Danica’s changed visage.

  “Nothing is as it appears,” Danica answered. “Now I need to leave. I’ll see you at ten.”

  They descended the stairs and Danica left the inn. No one took notice of her as she made h
er way to the abbey. Ansa opened the pack and peeked inside. She gasped with pleasure when she saw the gorgeous kimono Danica had worn earlier to the castle.

  At the abbey, a young priest answered the bell, and when she told him she needed to see Semiel, he showed her inside. She waited in a large reception room until the old priest appeared. At first, he didn’t recognize her. Then he looked taken aback for a moment, but he quickly recovered and embraced her warmly.

  “Danica, I was hoping you would come here today. Please, follow me.”

  He led her down a long hallway, through a door, and into a room that had a large tapestry on one wall. He slipped behind it and through an arched doorway into the room Danica had been in before. She followed him in, and she found Lucas, the blacksmith, in the room. He was still dressed as a priest, and when he looked at her, he knew something was wrong.

  “Danica, what’s happened?”

  “Jimmu and Emma have been arrested. I’m going to free them.” She looked at Semiel. “In the meantime, they’ll be looking for me, so I need you to show me the secret passage—the one no one knows about. I must find out what the Count is planning, and I want to know what Dumone is up to.”

  “I’m going with you,” Lucas said.

  “No. You need to stay here and finalize the plans for tomorrow. It’s more important, now, that everything move ahead quickly. They think Emma is the one who answers the prophesy, and that’s going to work in our favor. They won’t kill her because they’ll want to make an example of her.”

  “What about Jimmu?” Lucas asked.

  A cloud moved across Danica’s eyes. “Hopefully, they’ll want to make an example of him, too. Now tell me what will happen tomorrow.”

  Lucas quickly went over the plans.

  Thirty-Seven

  Semiel led Danica to an area in the room that had a small ornate carpet on the floor. A wooden altar stood on top of it. He and Lucas moved the altar and lifted the carpet, exposing a trap door. Lucas grasped the heavy ring inset in the wood and lifted the door revealing stairs leading into blackness. Spider webs across the stairs were evidence of their disuse.