by Guy Antibes
Saganet put his hand on Ricky’s arm. “I sent you letters, but they disappeared, except for the ones I sent to your guard’s address. Loria Mansali refused to cooperate once she found a new heartthrob. I can show you the pardon Duke Bariani wrote to snatch you from the home on Winter’s Day.”
“It was all a mess.”
Ricky shook his head in disbelief. “A mess? What kind of spies are you? You both have your little lairs with your secret passages, but you could have told me. It would have made a difference, a big difference. My bottom wouldn’t be scarred like it is now.”
“We are sorry, but more than sorry,” Duke Bariani said. “Saganet is seeking out a few professionals to help us.”
“With all respect, Duke Bariani, you both need a lot of help. You lost your network and you nearly lost me.” Ricky took a few deep breaths while Saganet and the duke watched him.
He had expected both of them to be angry at his tirade, but they looked like they had been spanked. Ricky’s head was spinning with confusion. He had been betrayed by his guardian, who had still worked to save him. He felt used, but his time in the Home had led to the discovery of the ancient books. He had to set all his conflicting thoughts aside to find out what was going on.
“Pain and suffering aside,” Ricky said. “I can’t say I enjoyed my time in the Home, but I learned a great deal and made a few new friends. The experiences are still too fresh to understand, but I’m sure I’ll make use of them later in my life.”
“Of course, of course,” Duke Bariani said.
Ricky shook his head. He had chastened a duke and lived to tell the tale. Maybe he had gone too far, but then again, maybe not. “I’ll need some compensation.”
Saganet sat back and folded his arms. He pursed his lips. He wasn’t as humiliated as the duke. “What do you want?”
“I want unrestricted access…”
Saganet’s eyes grew large, and he cleared his throat. “To what? You want an audience with the duke at any time?”
Ricky felt his cheeks burn. He was about to talk about the books they brought back, but Saganet kept him from exposing their secret. The situation settled Ricky down.
“I’d like that and my record erased. I want to be cleared of any wrong doing, and since Lady Taranta is still probably going to hire assassins to kill me, I want to carry weapons. I know I can’t defend myself with magic.”
Duke Bariani and Saganet looked at each other. The duke sighed. “I can do that. I’ll provide you with a license to carry weapons. I would be disappointed if you didn’t use a little magic to preserve your life, but I can’t write that down, you understand.”
“I do.” Ricky looked over the food. “Maybe we better get started. My stomach still needs to be filled.”
The duke beamed. “Ah, something we agree upon completely. Go ahead.”
After they started, Ricky thought about the revelations. Perhaps he had more in common with Mara Torris than he thought. She worked for the king, and Ricky, unknowingly, worked for Duke Bariani. Saganet would have to tell him where everyone stood, since he had given Ricky the distinct impression that the duke was an enemy.
He expected his guardian and the duke owed him more that what they agreed to for his incarceration. He did know if Saganet and the duke hadn’t intervened, he could have been sentenced to more than nine months with all the influence still wielded by Lady Taranta. Even if he did know some powerful spells, Ricky still felt like he was a game piece. At least he knew now that he might have enough leverage to finally find out the reason he was moved from spot to spot on the game board.
The duke put his fork down and took a sip of wine.
“I have a couple of relevant news items that you might be interested in, Ricky.”
“Oh?” What other secret had they been withholding from him?
Bariani nodded. The duke clasped his hands and leaned forward. “First, Lady Taranta has fled Tossa. You probably crossed paths on your way here in the past few days. She has been formally banished from Tossa, by me, and has been offered asylum, of sorts, in Applia. The second is likely connected. I just received a bird in the last hour announcing that the King wasted no time in appointing the next Duke of Applia. You might be surprised to know his name. He is Duke Dino Noacci, the murderer of your father and mother and the thief who stole your title.”
~~~~
If you liked A Sorcerer Imprisoned, please leave a review where you bought the book. I would greatly appreciate it.
An excerpt from
~
SONG OF SORCERY – BOOK THREE
CHAPTER ONE
~
D OUBLI ACADEMY LOOKED LESS FRIENDLY when Ricky Valian returned from his first meeting with Duke Bariani of Tossa, the city Ricky called home. The encounter added to his string of disappointments and challenges since he had been plucked from the streets of Tossa by Mistress Marissa Double, Dean of Doubli Academy. His dark mood did more than echo the cold damp of the Tossan night.
He had become adept at setting aside beatings, betrayals, incarceration, and personal attacks, but finding out that his guardian, Saganet Crabacci, could have softened his sentence to the Applia Juvenile Home made his morale plummet. He had no home and no sponsors worth trusting with the sole exception of Mistress Doubli.
Ricky didn’t utter a word, and Saganet, walking at his side, stayed silent, as well.
Saganet unlocked the gate and let Ricky inside the academy grounds. He locked it as Ricky looked on, feeling detached from the academy and wondering why he had to endure the hardships of the last year and a half.
“You aren’t happy,” Saganet said.
“Would you be?” Ricky responded. “I was attacked inside the Home again and again. People tried to kill me multiple times and what support did I have?”
“Loria was meant to be your lifeline,” Saganet said.
Ricky could tell that his guardian didn’t believe his statement.
“We didn’t think she would betray you at such a critical time.”
“And what did you do when you found I had no way of communicating with you other than the odd letter than Henni, the library guard, was able to send and receive outside the home? I was so disoriented at the time, I just went along with the flow of events when I should have just escaped.”
Saganet said nothing as they walked the rest of the way to the cottage they shared on academy grounds. Ricky was tempted to stalk off to his room, but whatever kept him going at the Home, made him sit at the kitchen table. He knew he had to talk it out with Saganet. Moping just wasn’t Ricky’s style, but his mind was so filled with conflicting emotions and memories of his perilous experiences in the Home, that he couldn’t shunt aside what happened to him in Applia.
Saganet re-kindled the fire in the stove and heated up a kettle while Ricky sat closely examining his hands, trying to make some sense of his life.
“You can be as angry as you want,” Saganet said.
Ricky stood. “I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to be depressed. I don’t want to feel worthless.”
Saganet made tea in silence.
“I don’t want to be kept in the dark,” Ricky muttered when Saganet shoved a steaming mug of tea under his nose.
Saganet’s head snapped up. He peered at Ricky. “Is that it? You are most upset with us not letting you know what was going on?”
Ricky looked away. He felt angry about everyone taking advantage of him. He didn’t want to be used.
“I’m not a coward,” he said, knowing that was true.
Saganet took a sip. “No one said you were.”
“Yet you treat me like one. You keep information from me—”
“For your own good.”
Ricky couldn’t help but shake his head. “Nor for my own good, but for yours. So you can feel good.”
Saganet pursed his lips and frowned. “You really believe that?”
Ricky had to think about what he said. He knew his words were intended to punish, but he cou
ldn’t say what he meant. He felt as helpless as Mara had when she couldn’t express herself when she could barely speak Parantian. “Not really. I can’t tell you how I feel. I don’t have the words.”
“Let me throw out what I think. You are used to living on your own terms using whatever resources you can scrape up at the time.”
Ricky nodded. He always had done that when he basically lived by himself on Gobble Bangatelli’s shantyboat. In the past year and a half, he still had to earn everything that came his way, especially at the Applia Juvenile Home. “I can’t be mad about being used?”
“Because you feel you were tricked into being there?”
“I didn’t have a say. I’ve always dreaded that place. The thought of being there gave me nightmares. It was every bit as bad as its reputation. And now I find out that I didn’t have to go,” he stared at Saganet, “I didn’t have to go,” he repeated the phrase as if he talked to himself.
“Would you have gone if I asked you to as a member of the Order of the Curled Fist?”
“Of course I would. We would have planned an escape. I kept to my informal orders to keep my eyes open, didn’t I? When we drove back with the books, I felt that I had triumphed over my enemies.”
“What changed?” Saganet said. “I still think you pulled out a stunning victory and yet you are distraught.”
“Distraught. That must mean I’m angry.”
“Angry and disappointed and disoriented.”
Ricky nodded. He ran his hand through the still-short hair forced upon him by the Home’s barber. “I am…” Revelation flooded through him. “I am acting like I was after using my magic to fly,” he said.
“What?” Saganet frowned.
“When a sorcerer does certain spells, he can get depressed. It’s in one of my books. Flying is especially bad. I had to fight off depression after I flew. Maybe what I’m feeling is the same thing.”
“Maybe part of it,” Saganet said, leaning back holding his hands to his mug of tea. “You can’t blame all that you feel on flying.” He narrowed his eyes. “Sometimes soldiers fighting in a war can come home and become darker creatures than when they left. It’s a condition that follows a period of high activity, danger, and the stresses of battle. Maybe that’s what has happened to you. Do you feel all used up?”
Ricky nodded. “Among other things. I feel betrayed.” He looked at Saganet. “That includes you.”
“Do you want a change in guardian?”
Ricky couldn’t fathom living with anyone else. “No! I’m sure I’ve disappointed you. Do you want me gone?”
“I think that even the great Mirano Bespa can’t cure what ails you, Ricky. But what will help might be a change. Not a disruptive change. Why don’t you spend the rest of the year in the dormitories among the other students. You aren’t a scholarship student who has to work. Baron Mansali took care of that. Concentrate on being a student and on living a more normal life. Bury yourself in studying. We all know you learned a lot last year, but there are still gaping holes that need years of filling.”
“A distraction?” Ricky said, thinking back to the exercising that helped solve his flying depression.
Saganet nodded. “Not one distraction, but lots of them. I’ll work on keeping you informed if you have to do something for the Order, but I think you’ve done enough for quite a while.”
Ricky thought that without him around, Saganet’s romance with Effie Asucco could take a firmer root.
“I suppose I can do it.”
Saganet smiled and sighed. “Let’s try that for awhile. If it doesn’t work out you are welcome to come back. Your bedroom is still here, since this is your home.”
“See?” Ricky said. “You’ve given me a lifeline.” His feelings began to brighten a bit. He had a few choices and a challenge and he could live with that.
“I’ll make your dormitory living an assignment. That will give you a bit more focus. Learn to live with others in a less demanding environment than the Juvenile Home. Make some friends, be yourself. Develop some social graces. I’m sure there were few enough of those exercised in Applia.”
Ricky managed a smile. “A few glimmers of grace apeared here and there. I’ll need a new wardrobe, though.”
Saganet nodded. “That is an excuse for additional distraction. Tomorrow wander around the grounds and see what kind of styles the fashionable young men are wearing these days. You have plenty of money to spend on such things. After all, you haven’t even touched the prize money from your novice competition last summer. I wouldn’t be surprised if a bit more won’t be added to your personal coffers as a result of your saving King Leon Crespi of Paranty from having to dispose of the former Duke of Applia.”
~
Ricky, carrying a valise with new clothes and a new robe, not the used one that he wore his entire first year, walked into the Bisiccia Building, also known as Dorm Three. The lower two floors held first years and the upper two served as housing for second and third year boys.
He looked at the note he clutched in his free hand for his room number, 309. He followed a sign once he reached the third floor and opened the door to a room for two. Since he started mid-year, no one assigned him a roommate. Ricky looked at the window and the room’s layout and took the bed farthest from the window.
He sat in an easy chair, one of two facing a tiny fireplace. The room was covered with a stained carpet, but anything was better than the bare brick walls of his cell at the Applia Juvenile Home. Dark maroon patterned paper covered the walls. Molding surrounded the windows and the room even had wooden wainscoting halfway up the walls.
Ricky opened the window and breathed in the crisp winter air, significantly warmer than Applia. He turned around at a knock on the door.
“I see you’ve returned,” Benno said, grinning as he leaned against the open door. “Joining the rest of us?”
“Saganet thought I could make better friends if I didn’t live with a faculty member.”
Benno folded his arms. “I agree with him. What classes do you have?”
“I don’t know,” Ricky said. “The second term starts in a few days. I’m sure Dean Doubli will figure something out.”
“Not the Dean, this time,” Benno said, poking a finger in his ear. “You’ll be getting a faculty advisor. I’m sure Professor Crabacci was your advisor last year. You’ll get someone else, I’m sure.”
Ricky smiled. “I just want to be another student.”
“Fat chance,” Benno said. “You have a reputation. Word is just leaking out about your adventure in Applia. Everyone thinks you put down a rebellion single-handed. You even killed the Duke of Applia.”
“That is the truth, but the soldiers in the Royal Barracks put down the attack. They probably won’t be able to catch all the rebels.”
There were hundreds of militia in the square wearing green coats. Ricky didn’t think anyone could catch them all.
He made a face. “I’m lucky to be alive. Frank Pestella tried to kill me.”
Benno’s eyes rose. “He was there?”
Ricky nodded. “Lady Taranta paid quite a few people to take care of me.”
Benno grinned. “I, for one, am glad they didn’t succeed. You can tell me about it over lunch. It’s nearly time to head over to the commissary.”
“Do you live in this building?”
“Fourth floor with a few fellow fourth-years. We call the building Bisticcia, not Dormitory Three. I’ve had my room upstairs for two and a half years. I’m comfortable there. The fourth-year rooms are bigger, but I like staying where I’m at.”
“Show me around. I’ve walked past the dormitories lots of times, but this is the first time I’ve ever been in one.”
“Sure. I can wait for you to put your clothes away and then we’ll be off for a tour and lunch.”
As they walked through the halls, Ricky instantly saw similarities between the fancier academy dorms and the cellblocks. He guessed people were people and the floor plans starte
d with the same set of needs.
Ricky recognized faces here and there, nodding to those who he recognized. More people nodded to him than he knew. Perhaps it was his reputation. One thing was definitely different about the academy dorm, the undercurrent of hostility didn’t seem to manifest itself at Doubli. He knew there were plenty of conflicts, but no one seemed to cower or look as guarded as his fellow inmates at the Home.
He fought off feeling a wariness that he used for protection at the Home and when he lived in Shantyboat Town. It reminded him of times when his erstwhile grandfather had been especially mean to him. Ricky wondered if he could shake that feeling off as well as he had his first year. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his second year looking behind his back, waiting for an attack of some kind. Ricky wondered if his Applian experience had wounded him, deep inside.
~~~
A BIT ABOUT GUY
~
With a lifelong passion for speculative fiction, Guy Antibes found that he rather enjoyed writing fantasy, as well as reading it. So a career was born, and Guy anxiously engaged in adding his own flavor of writing to the world. Guy lives in the western part of the United States and is happily married with enough children to meet or exceed the human replacement rate.
You can contact Guy at his website: www.guyantibes.com.
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BOOKS BY GUY ANTIBES
SONG OF SORCERY
Book One: A Sorcerer Rises
THE DISINHERITED PRINCE
Book One: The Disinherited Prince
Poldon Fairfield, a fourteen-year-old prince, has no desire to rule since his poor health has convinced him that he will not live long enough to sit on any throne. Matters take a turn for the worse when his father, the King of North Salvan, decides his oldest will rule the country where Pol’s mother is first in the line of succession, followed by Pol, her only child. Pol learns he has developed a talent for magic, and that may do him more harm than good, as he must struggle to survive among his siblings, now turned lethally hostile.
