Quest of the Wizardess

by Guy Antibes

  Bellia stood there, glaring, until she saw the fight leave Yezza’s eyes. She nodded and Bellia withdrew.

  Yezza stood with her hands on her hips and looked intently at Bellia. “No man has ever bested me outside of the Wolf tribe. Not even Menna, your friend.” She laughed. Bellia thought Yezza might become hysterical, but she controlled herself.

  She evidently wore a number of necklaces under her jerkin. Pulling them out, she looked down at the charms hanging from the ends. Choosing one, she untangled it from the others and threw it around Bellia’s head.

  Bellia nearly skewered her, backing away. Yezza put both hands on her face and kissed her fiercely on the lips. “You wear this as a token of your victory. These were all won on the dueling field. I defeated a clan chief and that is his token. Show that to any Middab and you will gain their instant respect. You would do well on the dueling field.” She looked at her men. “It’s over. Respect that woman. If you cross her and she doesn’t kill you, I will.”

  Yezza picked up her weapons and, smiling shook her head. “This one is more than a scholar, Menna. You are lucky she is with you.”

  Sleep did not come to Bellia that night. She slept with her swords close by, not trusting Yezza in the least.

  The next morning, Menna rode with Bellia, crowing about her fight with Yezza. “Magnificent. You know I tried that same maneuver on her once and couldn’t get the timing right. She had me crying mercy in another second. That bit with the sword slammed into the dirt and another at her throat. Priceless. You never cease to amaze me. I actually thought you were going to kill her.”

  “Menna, if she twitched, her corpse would still lie in that camp. If Romo and you pointed your swords at me last night along with her men, I am fairly certain I’d be riding over this pass alone. Remember that.”

  Bellia saw Menna’s face whiten. She just nodded and rode on ahead. When Menna was sufficiently out of sight, she pulled out the token Yezza put around his throat. A silver wolf barely shone in the sun. The token was tarnished and worn. It must be very old. She thought about what kind of chance she took the previous night. It could have easily been her corpse lying in the mud. Yet, perhaps the entire confrontation had been another infernal nudge. She would need Yezza and her men to respect her swordsmanship and it didn’t hurt for Menna and Romo to be reminded of it.

  ~

  The seven soldiers of fortune rode down Northwood’s main street. They were ignored as mustered-out soldiers wearing partial uniforms were all over the town. Bellia noticed their forlorn looks, but ignored them and smiled at the children trying to keep pace with their horses.

  Menna led them to a seedy inn called the Lady In Waiting. Bellia knew what kind of ladies were waiting. They leaned over the windows, calling to them from the second story.

  Menna motioned for Bellia and Yezza to follow her in. Instead of tables and chairs common to any inn Bellia had frequented in, yellow walls clashed with red upholstered couches. Bellia looked at Yezza who echoed her look of distaste.

  Menna, however, was unaffected as she walked to a counter by the inn’s stairs and slapped her open hand on a bell. “Brollo!” she yelled as she leaned with an elbow on the counter.

  “Menna, you’re back!” Brollo’s receding forehead immediately began to shine with beads of sweat. His eyes wouldn’t meet Menna’s.

  “My stuff. Where is it?”

  “Times have been hard since the soldiers left.” Brollo shrugged his shoulders with his hands out in supplication. “The money is gone.”

  “And the rest of my stuff?”

  “It’s here. It’s here.” The man looked at Menna’s eyes, rang the bell three times, and disappeared behind the curtains behind the counter.

  Three men walked down the stairs with swords in their hands. Another two emerged from the curtain.

  Yezza whistled. “We’ll even the odds a little,” she said with her upper lip curling into a sneer. Two of Yezza’s men walked into the room as Bellia heard swords clanging outside the door. The outside window framed Romo fighting one of Brollo’s men.

  Bellia drew her swords and as Romo’s opponent fell through the window clutching his chest, the other guards beat hasty retreats.

  “Keep Brollo from leaving,” Menna said as she ripped down the curtains to the back and stomped forward in search of her stash.

  “I’ll go around the back,” Bellia said. She walked out the front door seeing Romo tending to one of Yezza’s men. He looked badly injured, however his opponent lay dead at his feet. The entry to the Inn’s stables lay to the right. She ran through the big double doors to see Brollo trying to ride her down.

  Bellia timed her jump and grabbed onto Brollo, yanking him off the saddle. Both fell to the ground. Bellia heard a snap and felt the pain of landing bottom down on Brollo’s lower leg. It instantly reminded her of falling from an apple tree when she was much younger.

  She jumped up and hobbled around for a minute waiting for the pain to subside. She refused to cry out amidst Brollo’s wailing about his broken leg. Menna ran up to her.

  “I see you found him,” she said.

  Bellia nodded, rubbing her backside and sucking on her lower lip, not venturing to talk.

  “You see this?” Menna put his sword to Brollo’s throat. “Where is the rest of my stuff?”

  “See Esma. She knows.”

  “Esma?” Yezza said as she walked up.

  “She runs the whores.”

  “Let me handle her. Come, Bellia, we will let Menna renew her acquaintance with her old friend.” She turned around without waiting. Bellia walked bow-legged, trying to catch up.

  Bellia turned the corner to find Yezza with her sword in the air. A mature lady stood on the back stairs with a large bag. Clothes stuck out in various places indicating an intended hasty departure.

  “Esma?” Bellia said. “It’s not quite time to leave. Come on down and let us talk.” She tried to smile. She couldn’t stay still or the pain would intensify.

  “If you don’t come down I will come up. And you don’t want me to do that.” Yezza shook her head.

  The woman descended the stairs. Yezza grabbed the big bag and started throwing out the clothes. She emptied the bag and then tested the weight. “False bottom,” she said grinning.

  Esma wailed. Yezza put her hand over the woman’s heart and pushed her down on the ground. She then sat on the woman, throwing the bag to Bellia.

  She felt like a thief when she found the catch for the bottom as coins and jewels fell from the bag.

  “I think Menna has found her cash,” Yezza said.

  “Where are the rest of Menna’s belongings?” Bellia asked the woman.

  “Wrapped up in the rafters. Green cloth.” She looked towards one of the two stable buildings.

  Bellia walked into the stable and looked up. It looked like Menna wasn’t the only soldier to use Brollo’s services. She only saw one green-wrapped package. She painfully climbed up on the stall and picked it down with her Pock sword.

  Menna walked in. “You found it!” She knelt and cut the cloth through with her knife. Bellia recognized the statue. Menna ignored the trinkets and souvenirs wrapped up with the thing.

  “Now we can find the temple.” Menna’s eyes blazed with excitement. She twisted off the head of the statue and pulled out a parchment.

  “That’s the map?” Yezza said.

  “No map. All that’s on here are words. These will lead us to Helevat.” Menna said. “We won’t read it here. We head north to the port of Flathua. All I know is that Helevat is in Durnna.”

  “Over the desert?” Bellia knew Flathua. It was a tiny port directly north of the House and one of her mother’s shopping destinations. Perhaps that’s why Barloo struck a chord within Bellia. But where Barloo might have a hundred ships pulled up at its dock, Flathua might have three or four.

  “That means we’ll go through Greenwell.”

  “And so we will.” Menna slapped Bellia on the back. “You can see Pock
again, as long as you don’t tell him about where we’re going.”

  “It won’t matter to him. But I know how to keep a secret.”

  Menna looked at her friend. “You do.”

  Bellia cringed inside at telling her fib.

  ~

  Yezza’s man died from his wounds. The Northwood Guard was marching up the street as they rode out of town. It wasn’t long before they passed the remains of King Rollack’s first camp. Weeds grew where two years before, thousands of men and women lived and trained to go south.

  The sight brought a hollow feeling to Bellia. Yezza and her two men ignored the sight. Bellia stopped her horse and dredged up memories. Menna and Romo joined her in silent thought.

  “A lot of water under the bridge.” Menna said tonelessly. Bellia wondered what she thought. Astun, who helped him so much, lay long dead in Kokota. So many soldiers gone, leaving their families destitute. Sitting here wouldn’t bring them back, she thought, as she moved past Menna and Romo and sped up a bit to catch up to Yezza.

  ~

  The six of them rode into Greenwell. Winter was losing its last grasp on the world. Somehow the village looked smaller and more run down than Bellia remembered.

  The group pulled up at the only inn in town. All were grateful to sleep in a bed after so many nights on the road. They didn’t get the chance in Northwood, nor along the way.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be back tonight or not,” Bellia said as she left the others dismounting. “I’m going to visit Pock.”

  She heard the clanging of metal on metal before she reached the smithy. It was music to Bellia’s ears. She turned down the lane. Her mood brightened as she saw Pock working at his forge.

  Bellia rode up. “Need an apprentice?”

  Pock looked up, not immediately recognizing Bellia. His eyes lit up and he extended his arms.

  “Bellia, come down off your horse and give your old master a hug.” Pock’s eyes began to water.

  “How have you been?” Bellia noticed she now looked eye to eye at the blacksmith.

  “I’m fine.” He pushed Bellia away. “Are you after your investment?” Pock’s face fell. “I’m afraid there’s not much left. When poor King Rollack died, I was left with a whole shipment of swords. I’ve sold a few, but they still sit in the workshop.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s an investment I’m not ready to redeem. But perhaps I could take a few swords for those I ride with.”

  Pock looked a bit confused. “Ride with? Are you a highwayman?”

  “No nothing like that, but they are a rough crew. We are all soldiers of fortune seeking treasure in a far off land.”

  “Eustia?”

  “Perhaps. I’m vowed to silence.” Bellia picked up a hammer and looked at it in her hand. “You know I left here in blacksmith-shape. When I started sword training, I lost my blacksmith muscles and I wish I could stay here with you and get them back.”

  Bellia thought that perhaps, in other circumstances she would. She felt safe from the world in this smithy. If it wasn’t for Nillie and Hella, she’d be here still. But she found her outlook on life had changed, perhaps too much for returning to her past life.

  “You look different, Bellia,” Pock said as he banked the fire. “I didn’t recognize you straight off. You’ve become a woman. But I also see more pain in there and you were hurting pretty bad when you showed up all those years ago.”

  “Hella?”

  “The girl married a rich farmer. She lost some weight after you left and took care of her looks. I think she found herself a good man. She told me if you ever came back to tell you she was sorry.”

  “It’s funny. I haven’t thought about her in all these seasons, but you’ve always been in my mind.” Bellia grinned as she lifted the sword a bit out of its scabbard.

  “Ah. One of ours, I reckon. I see you replaced the guard. What’s that other blade?”

  “This blade? I made it along the way.” Bellia pulled it out and gave it to Pock. “Watch the edge, its really sharp.”

  Pock took a rag and dragged it along the edge. It split into two. “A masterpiece. I’ll bet there’s a touch of magic in that blade.”

  “There is.”

  “Yours, I imagine.” Pock didn’t look up from the sword. “So you’re a wizard now?”

  Bellia barked a laugh. “No. Dressed like this?” She twirled around pretending she wore a dress. “I’ve learned little more wizarding than I knew coming into your employ. Why don’t you join us at the Kell’s Inn for a meal on me.”

  “The innkeeper and me have a dispute over some horseshoes one of his customers ordered and didn’t pay for.”

  “Then let me at least buy some ale and we can reminisce tonight.”

  Pock looked at Bellia with sorrowful eyes. “My wife won’t stand for it.”

  Nillie walked down the lane and stopped when she recognized Bellia. “Leave. Leave you devil!” She ran up and began pushing her out of the smithy. “I won’t have you in our establishment. Go. Go!” she shouted at Bellia. The veins bulged on her neck like snakes.

  “You’d better go. Send your friends over for them swords. Free of charge. Any shoeing you might need, too.”

  “Free of charge?” Nillie said.

  “She’s not coming back for her investment. Bellia’s just passing through.”

  “Oh.” She became silent, but still gave Bellia a nasty look before she stomped towards their house.

  “Why is she here?” Bellia said with a low voice in case she was listening around the corner.

  “Her other husband kicked her out. Hella had already left and I was alone when she showed up.” Pock bit his lip.

  Bellia put his hand on the man’s shoulder, sorry for the man’s weakness for his awful wife. “You’ll always be a friend. If I’m fortunate enough to pass by again, hopefully I can take you both to Kell’s for a dinner.” Bellia smiled. Pock gave the short sword back to Bellia.

  “Mighty fine blade. Take care, Bellia.”

  “You, too. Consider the investment permanent.” She leaned over and kissed Pock’s cheek for what she hoped wouldn’t be the last time and rode away.

  Back at the inn, Bellia walked into a celebration, saddlebags over her shoulders.

  “We’re on our way!” All of them were drunk. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.” Menna slurred his words.

  “I think I’ll go to my room. Perhaps I can do some reading. Where is the scroll?”

  Menna put her finger to her lips. ‘Sssshhhh. We share the same room tonight. You’ll find it.”

  Bellia walked over to the bar. “Could I have some food in my room and could you show me the way? I’m with that lady over there.” She pointed to Menna. She returned a grimace.

  “You’re not joining in their revelry?” The barmaid looked at her trying to remember something.

  “No. I just want to be alone.”

  “You used to live with Pock didn’t you?”

  Bellia smiled. “I did. I was his apprentice for three or four years.”

  “You’ve grown up really tall. There’s something about you, like your mother. I’ll never forget her. Nice lady. Same color of hair as you.” She tilted her head. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  The next morning, She came downstairs to an empty room. Her companions weren’t in evidence. Menna still slept off her celebration the night before upstairs. The maid stood to take Bellia’s order.

  “Things are dead in the mornings and I haven’t had my breakfast. Do you mind if we ate together? I’ll bet you have some interesting stories.” The maid looked at the stairway.

  Menna wouldn’t be ready for anything for another hour or two, she thought. “Why not?”

  The maid left and brought back two small bowls of mush and some bacon and scrambled eggs.

  “Do you know what’s been going the past few months? We’ve been traveling up from Pottoa since the end of fall.” Bellia took a few bites and felt like she was in heaven. Fresh food.


  “We have a new King. Rollack’s cousin. He was crowned in midwinter. He has a new advisor. A wizard from Kokota.”

  “Shibito?”

  “No, he has another name. Astun, they call him; Astun the Red behind his back. Flaming red hair and sort of skinny,” the girl giggled.

  Bellia didn’t quite know what to make of that. Were Astun’s friends able to restore him to life? He looked pretty dead to her, but then she remembered whoever killed her father incinerated her family to keep them from being raised from the dead by magic. She shivered and clutched one fist tightly.

  She forced her nerves to relax and said, “What about the rest of the country. Is there peace?”

  “Pretty much. We have some skirmishes on the border with South Wansua. You know their king is king again?”

  Bellia nodded. South Wansua had reverted back to a kingdom while she processed information at the Temple.

  “What about north. The desert and Flathua?”

  “Is that where you’re going?”

  “Flathua lies on our path. I went there a few times as a young girl, before I came here.”

  “Nothing happens up here.” Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “The world leaves us alone.”

  “Be happy it does. I was in King Rollack’s army. I saw many men and women die and the land fall to ruin.”

  “I suppose so. But a girl like me yearns for life.” She smiled at Bellia.

  “If you only knew how good it is here in Greenwell,” Bellia said.

  ~~~

  Chapter Nineteen

  A Visit to the House

  ~

  Menna’s group camped on a wide valley in the mountains just west of the desert. Bellia looked at Menna’s scroll. She had translated the ancient writings, jotting down the results on a parchment.

  “I’m not quite sure about some of these words,” she said to Menna, who sat some paces away sharpening her sword and trading stories with the others. Yezza had disappeared to wash clothes and take a bath in a little lake on the other side of a copse of aspen. That’s what Bellia would have rather done, but Menna insisted on planning their trip to Flathua.