The Acolyte: Magicians of the Beyond

by Victoria Murata

  “Be careful with that, now. If’n you spill even a drop, I’ll tan your hides.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” The girls lifted the cauldron’s handle from the hook over the fire. They were strong, and they had done this hundreds of times. Cook watched them walk the cauldron out of the kitchen, heading to the dining hall where the guards would assemble for breakfast.

  The Countess and her ladies were in the chapel for Prime. If any of them thought it odd that no priests were present, they didn’t say. Each was preoccupied with her own thoughts. Gloren was planning how she could fake being sick and avoid going on the barge. The foreign woman, Nica, had been so adamant that she not go to the lake. Gloren found she trusted her, and hoped that whatever happened today, her family would come back to the castle.

  Aefille was thinking of the young guard she was currently in love with. They had been discovered in a compromising situation by one of the chamber maids who had reported it. The Countess had been furious. She’s jealous, Aefille was certain. She’s not young and pretty like I am. But she was in trouble, and she needed to figure out how to get out of it. So instead of praying, she was strategizing, and she smiled secretly when she came up with the perfect excuse.

  The third maid was deep in prayer. She didn’t want to be on the barge this morning. She hated witnessing sentencing, especially if it involved water. She was petrified of water. She couldn’t care less whether the women were guilty or not. They could rot in the dungeon for the rest of their lives. But being a witness to hanging, burning, beheading, and especially drowning terrified her. Once she had fainted and had to be carried from the field to the infirmary. It was embarrassing, and after that she made sure to take a drug to numb her feelings before the trials.

  The Count decided to forego his usual early morning ride in the countryside to allow for extra time to prepare before the trial. Dumone had visited him hours before and told him the girl had finally broken and admitted to being the prophesied one. He was overjoyed and his mind played out how she would be executed in front of all the citizens. He gloated when he thought of the faces of the people as their savior drowned in the lake. He was mildly irritated that his guards hadn’t found the other two, but he was convinced that after the trial was over, they would be found. Someone had discovered a length of rope that had been tied to a tree and then dropped over the east wall. It was possible the two fugitives had escaped and were hiding in one of the outlying villages. A contingent of soldiers had been dispatched with Wolksey at the head. They would search every croft, every barn, and every haystack to find them. They would scour the countryside and all the wooded areas. If the fugitives had left Crown City, his soldiers would find them. Then he would hold another trial and watch them hang! Or maybe he would burn them. Yes, that would be more dramatic.

  He surveyed himself critically in the mirror. He had decided to wear his fur-lined cloak. It would be chilly on the lake. His crown was heavy, but it was so stunning with precious gemstones embedded into the metal. He looked like a king, and indeed, he felt like a king! With the death of the prophesied one, the citizens would have to accept him as their sovereign. No one else would be coming to save them. All their hopes would be dashed. He smiled thinly. This was going to be a great day. A day that would go down in history!

  Lucas and three others had disguised themselves as priests and had been admitted into the castle for Prime. The few guards stationed near the chapel leaned against the walls for support. They attributed their exhaustion to the long night without sleep while they had searched for the two fugitives. There would be no relief until after the trial. In the meantime, they had devoured a quick breakfast and reported to their posts. As the priests approached, there was no reason for alarm. And indeed, they weren’t as vigilant as they might have been. The drugged porridge took effect quickly, so it was easy for Lucas and the three others to overpower them.

  The disguised priests dragged the guards into an anteroom close by where they quickly removed the guards’ armor and donned it in place of their priest robes. There was a table at one end of the room covered with a heavy floor length cloth. They bound and gagged the guards with strips of cloth torn from the priest’s robes and dragged them behind the table. The last thing Lucas did was tie a thin strip of bright red cloth to the top of each of his men’s helmets. With the helmets face guards down, it would be hard for his men to tell each other from the Count’s guards. Then they found the side door of the castle, unlocked it, and let more of their men in. Soon the guards patrolling the dungeon and the underbelly of the castle were overcome, and their armor was donned by the rebels. Lucas made sure each man had a red strip of cloth tied to the top of his helmet.

  The Count heard a knock at his door, and when he nodded, his steward opened it to one of his advisors.

  “Your Excellency, the barge is ready, and the prisoners have been assembled at the lake.”

  The Count gave himself one last admiring look in the mirror and strode toward the door. “Is the council ready to board the barge?”

  “Yes, your Excellency.”

  “The Countess? Rone?”

  “They are already aboard.”

  “And Dumone?”

  “He is at the lakeside with his cat.”

  The Count nodded briefly and strode out of the room, followed by his advisor. In truth, Dumone’s cat made him nervous, but there had never been a reason to doubt Dumone’s ability to control the creature. It will add to the drama of the trial. People will quake in their shoes when they see the dreaded beast.

  As he descended the stairs, everything seemed to be in order. Guards were stationed in obvious places. A few fell in behind him to complete his entourage out the door and down to the lake.

  Forty-Two

  Crowds thronged to the lakeside to watch the trial. The Count had ordered all citizens of Crown City to attend, but the order was unnecessary as everyone in the city wanted to see the one who had been prophesied. They came to see the one who they had hoped would redeem them. The one whose legend had been told for seventeen years. And many still held out hope that this young woman would somehow manage to free herself and save their city.

  The lake was at the bottom of a slope, and as far as the Count could see, there were people amassed to watch the trial. The crowd parted when the Count and his entourage marched down to the shore. The barge was tied to a pier and he could see the Countess and members of his council already aboard. Dumone stood to the side with the prisoners who were guarded by Rone and a few guards. The women and a pale girl huddled together against the chill of the day. The Count noticed the one who had been prophesied was bent over, her fair hair falling forward, hiding her face. She swayed and would have fallen over had it not been for a guard on either side of her, holding her up. As the Count drew closer, he could see her bruised arms and neck and when she lifted her head to watch him draw near, he felt an instant aversion to the swollen and disfigured face. Her eyes regarded him from slits that barely opened.

  I’m glad Dumone left her conscious. I want her to answer to the charges, and I want everyone to hear her. I’ll save her for last.

  The Count looked up at the battlements of the castle behind him. Armed soldiers lined the tops, arrows notched in bows, ready to shoot anyone who dared make a move to save any of the prisoners. He mounted a platform that had been erected for the trial. The crowd quieted. In a loud and commanding voice, he addressed the citizens.

  “Our city has been under siege. We have had spies in our midst. The one who you all believed would save Lymonia is here, ready to stand trial for her crimes. Her accomplices will answer for their treachery when they are found, and they will be found. I have waited for this day for seventeen years.”

  He paused, looking out over the crowd. “Look at your savior.” He turned and pointed at the pathetic figure of Emma, supported by guards so she wouldn’t collapse. “For seventeen years you’ve been waiting for this! Here she is in all her glory!”

  A murmur went through th
e crowd. The Count surveyed the throng of people, their faces turned toward him. “Today is a glorious day, and when it is over, I will be the one, the only one who will rule this kingdom from this day forward.”

  His eyes traveled over the people. “Today is the day we will put this fool’s tale to rest, this legend of the one who is prophesied. There is no savior, and when you accept that, we will have a peaceful and prosperous kingdom. This woman,” and he turned and pointed at Emma again, “came to overthrow us and take power for herself. She is evil and her trial will demonstrate her wickedness. She will be thrown into the deep water of the lake. If she or any of these others should float, and he pointed to Lucina and the other women prisoners, “we will recognize a child of the devil and we will fish her out and burn her at the stake for the witch that she is. If she disappears under the water, we will know that the evil spirits have taken her back into their dark kingdom.”

  He descended the steps of the platform. His armed entourage encircled him as he walked down the pier and boarded the barge. Dumone followed with his cat, closely followed by Rone and the guards accompanying the prisoners. When all were aboard, the lines were cast off and the barge began to be poled into deeper water.

  Thirty feet from shore the polers stopped. The barge was full of people, and everyone jostled around to make room for the executioner to perform his duties. The Countess and two of her ladies stood toward one end of the barge, and the Count and his council at the other. Dumone stood close to the middle, everyone giving his cat a wide berth. Guards with bows at the ready stood every few feet. A couple of them appeared alert and attentive, and others were obviously flagging. Dumone noticed this and his senses were alerted. He scanned the lakeshore. Something wasn’t right.

  At a signal from the Count the executioner, the same one that had tortured Emma, grabbed the slight girl with the long fair hair and lifted her easily, stepping to edge of the barge. She was a light thing, and he had no trouble holding her aloft. She made no sound. One of the council members had positioned himself on shore on the platform, and he addressed the crowd.

  “Our first prisoner is an accomplice and has been accused of witchcraft. She will be thrown into the lake to determine her guilt.” He then pointed to the barge, and the executioner threw the girl into the water. There was an audible gasp from the crowd as her body hit the water. Barely a splash rippled the surface, and she vanished completely. A hush fell over the citizens as each one held his or her breath, hoping that she might resurface, but after a few minutes, it was clear that she would not.

  A sigh rippled through the crowd. And then another sigh followed, but this wasn’t a human sound. This was the sound of an arrow being loosed from a bow and finding its mark. One of the guards on the barge looked momentarily surprised at the arrow protruding from his middle before he toppled into the water. Three more arrows followed in quick succession finding their marks before pandemonium broke loose.

  The Count’s entourage, which turned out to be Lucas and his men, began to systematically dispose of the guards. Rone didn’t seem to suffer the effects of the drug and he turned to one of the rebels and engaged him in hand-to-hand combat. Soon the rebel was overcome and fell to the floor of the barge, mortally wounded. Then Rone turned to Lucas. The two grappled together, swords clashing. Rone was a trained and accomplished soldier and Lucas was no match for him. Soon Lucas was overpowered, and as Rone raised his sword to deliver the deadly blow, an arrow found the middle of his back, and he toppled into the water. Lucas looked toward the shore and saw Danica with her bow still raised, her steady arm pointing straight at where Rone had just been standing.

  The soldiers atop the castle walls seemed slow to realize what was happening, and when they finally did it was too late. The rebels who had been left inside the castle surrounded them and disarmed them.

  Danica was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the guards who had realized the mutiny and were ready to defend the court. She saw some of Lucas’s men with the red cloth tied to their helmets fighting alongside her. Then she saw Finian jump onto the scaffolding that had been erected for the Count. He grabbed the councilman and threw him off the top. Holding a sword aloft in a loud clear voice he called to the crowd.

  “Rise up and protect the one prophesied. Protect your home and your family! It’s time to take back our city!”

  With a steadily increasing roar, the crowd became mobilized. Burly men in peasant garb surged forward and surrounded the guards. The uprising was short-lived. The sheer volume of people was effective in disarming them.

  Soon Danica realized there wasn’t enough fight left in the guards. Whether under the influence of cook’s drugged porridge, or understanding they were outnumbered, or perhaps not having the will to fight for a court they had no respect for, they gave up and were ushered away to be held in the dungeon.

  She looked to the barge in time to see Dumone turning himself into the large firebird. Its feathers blazed red and orange as it lifted off, beating its heavy wings to gain altitude. At the same time, she saw the cat leap into the water and swim towards the shore. Danica grabbed her bow and notched an arrow into the string. She took off running along the shore, trying to keep up with the firebird that was now flying faster. She stopped abruptly, realizing she would lose her opportunity if she didn’t act quickly. The bird was nearly out of range of her arrow. Lifting the bow, she sighted down the arrow to the firebird. Taking careful aim, she loosed the arrow.

  The creature seemed to sense what was coming and it twisted its body slightly in the air. The arrow fell short of its mark and instead lodged in a wing. The creature screeched loudly and began to fly erratically in a large circle. Slowly it descended in smaller and smaller circles toward the shore of the lake.

  Danica threw the bow to the ground and ran in the direction of the firebird, pulling Lucas’s adze from her belt. She would finish it and be done with Dumone. She was running in a heavily wooded area, and as she came closer to where she thought it had landed, she heard the creature shriek and looked up. She could see its bright plumage through the canopy. It was flying above her, the arrow sticking out of the middle of one wing. Its flight was obviously impaired, but it was still able to keep aloft and it had spotted her. Their eyes met, and she felt sheer panic overtake her. She turned and began running through the forest, trying to put distance between her and the evil thing.

  As her feet pounded the ground, the firebird’s wings beat in counterpoint behind her. A shriek echoed through the trees and seemed to shake her to her bones. Suddenly she tripped on a tree root sticking up and fell heavily. The adze flew from her hand. As she scrambled to turn around, she recognized herself from Master Stefan’s card.

  I’ve seen myself here, panicking! I must get control!

  The large firebird landed clumsily, one wing dragging. It surveyed her with bright yellow slitted eyes. Then it opened its beak and a stream of fire poured from it, scorching all the trees and growth around her. She was surrounded and engulfed by fire, and all sound disappeared. The flames moved like a live thing, and her panic turned to calm. She was wearing Wilder’s belt under the priest’s robe, and she knew the fire would not harm her.

  The creature continued to spew fire until everything surrounding her was burned. Finally, it stopped, and the flames subsided. When the smoke and fire cleared, Danica was standing in the middle of the charred rubble of the forest. As she watched, the firebird began to morph into a human shape. Fiery feathers disappeared, replaced by a long flowing robe. Soon Dumone stood facing her, one arm pierced by her arrow, blood dripping from his hand. She had no weapon on her, but she was ready for hand-to-hand combat in whatever way Dumone chose.

  “It’s you, isn’t it? You are the ‘chosen one’,” he said with a sinister chuckle. He reached up and pulled the arrow from his arm, the point ripping through flesh. “Your resemblance to your mother is remarkable.”

  “Yes.” Danica spoke evenly, never taking her eyes from Dumone. “You killed my parents. It�
��s time you paid the price.”

  “It’s a pity your plan won’t come to fruition. You’ll die here in the forest, far from home. Philomena will find out that I am the one responsible for the death of her protégé.” He smiled evilly.

  “Give up, Dumone. The Count is overthrown. You have no more power here.”

  “Oh, but you’re wrong! I have the power to make Philomena pay! You may be resistant to fire, but let’s see how you fare against my other weapon.”

  He smiled and stepped to the side. His cat, still wet from its swim, walked to his side and sat on its haunches, green eyes regarding her.

  “This is a more fitting end for you. Felled by a cat! I like the sound of that.”

  He turned to the cat and spoke to it in a commanding voice, using words Danica had never heard. The cat never took its eyes away from Danica. It slowly stood, tail twitching, and a low growl came from its throat.

  A high laugh came from Dumone, just as the cat turned to him and leaped. It knocked him down and sank its long fangs into Dumone’s throat. He screamed, trying to get the big cat off him, but soon his efforts slowed, and then stopped. The cat lifted its head, blood dripping from its muzzle, and sat back on its haunches regarding Danica. She walked forward and reached out, gently removing its collar.

  You’re free now. He can’t control you any longer. You can live in the forest and find others like you.

  It stood and walked a few feet away then turned and looked at her. Their eyes locked for a moment, and it bounded off, disappearing into the trees.

  Danica looked down at Dumone’s body, and as she watched, it shriveled up and turned to ash. A gust of wind blew the charred pieces into the air.

  Forty-Three

  When Lucina’s body hit the water she sank immediately, the stones in her pockets weighing her down. It didn’t take her long to reach the bottom, and when she did, she stood and looked around. The air she felt she had saved was leaving her, but she remembered what Danica had told her: “Don’t be afraid. You will have plenty of air.”