by Guy Antibes
“You think Mara is over there?” Tobia asked.
“We can look through the camp first. I can go by myself if you want to watch the horses.”
“I’ll do that,” Tobia said, “and wait for you to return.” He lifted the medallion from its chain. “We can keep in contact.”
Ricky smiled. Indeed, we can do that.
Good luck, Tobia replied.
They both went their separate ways. Ricky walked closer to the military camp that seemed to be growing by the hour. He checked the wand at his side. His sword was with his horse. It was too fancy to show around common soldiers. He used his speedup spell to approach the camp without being seen.
Most of the soldiers weren’t wearing uniforms, but many carried around coats of Parantian blue bundled up with the rest of their things as they sought out their units. Ricky just moved from place to place in the chaos, walking around and listening with his coat off, rolled into a ball under his arm.
He found that General Farlotti had left, sailing to the capital to make demands. None of the soldiers expected a battle, but they were scheduled to train in a few days when all the forces finally made it up the cliffs.
Ricky suspected their mission was to capture the mines first. If General Farlotti intimidated King Courer into abdicating, King Leon could annex Dimani without bloodshed as soon as Ticco was crowned king.
He heard mention of a girl riding through camp and followed the conversation. The three soldiers he listened to stopped.
“You have something to say?” one of the soldiers said looking at Ricky. “Aren’t you a little young to be here?”
“I’m an apprentice battle sorcerer,” Ricky said, pointing to his wand case.
“How did you get off your boat? The sorcerers haven’t landed yet.”
Ricky gave them a sheepish grin. “Seasick, bad. They let me go since I was useless aboard the ship.”
That made the soldiers laugh. “That’s common enough, actually,” one of them said.
“I heard you said there was a girl in camp?” Ricky said.
“Not for you, and she’s not in camp. The general put her up on that ugly island in the middle of the bay. Forbidden, she is,” a soldier said. “You’re not the only one of us that would like a good willing squeeze.”
“I don’t care if she’s unwilling,” another soldier said. They laughed. “We can put you up in our unit for tonight if you want.”
Ricky shook his head. “This is all new to me. I still think I’ll wander around for a bit.”
He had a few similar encounters with other soldiers, getting the same information. Ricky had learned enough.
She is on the island, just like we suspected, Ricky said to a linked Tobia. I’ll join you as soon as I can and wait for twilight.
As Ricky waited in the little copse, eating a dry meal with his servant, he noticed that the sun had disappeared behind a bank of dull gray clouds.
“It looks like rain,” Tobia said, looking at Ricky scanning of the sky.
“Then I’m not going to wait until the weather becomes more dangerous,” Ricky said. “I’ll link with you when I take off from the island.”
The wind had begun to blow by the time Ricky stood looking five hundred feet down to the choppy surface of the bay. Ricky wondered if the Parantians knew a storm could scour the island.
He took his time finding resonance and filling his power up to the brim before he blinked his eyes to extract a bit more courage before he jumped and deflected off the cliff face. Rain began to fall, pelting his face. Each drop hurt at the speed Ricky flew, but he endured the discomfort as he pushed ahead to the island. His power was draining, so he tried to make himself lighter with each course correction he made to counter the wind, but he finally looked down on land again and descended in the gathering storm.
The camp was a mile away, by Ricky’s reckoning. He began to use his speedup technique to get to his destination, but his power was waning. His confidence began to plummet. He gazed across at the dark shadow of cliffs that lined the horizon. How could he make it back? Ricky put his head in his hands and sought out a few rocks on the little slope that rose from the island, dejected.
He would be wiped off the island along with Mara and her captors. He would never see Saganet or Merry. Somehow Princess Pira’s face entered his mind. Ricky wanted to say goodbye to her. He had enough power to feel a working link engage.
I’m sorry, I’m a failure, Princess.
Where are you? Are you still up north?
I am going to die on Otta’s Isle along with Mara. A storm is coming and will kill us all. Ricky said.
You are talking foolishness, my Lord Valian. Pull yourself together. If you are going to be a traitor, be a successful traitor!
Ricky nearly withered from her attack.
Why are you so down? It’s not like the Lord Valian I know. Are you injured? Princess Pira said.
Her words sunk through. Down? Did Pira mean depression? Ricky shook his head and wiped the spatters of rain from his face. He had switched from deflection to the lighter than air spell some time during his flight to the island, or perhaps even deflection brought on depression. He stood and began to whirl his arms using the exercise to will the depression away.
All I needed was some encouragement from my princess. Thank you. I will be getting on with my tasks. Ricky said. He found himself sweating in the increasingly cold air. Princess Pira had said the right things to him and had saved his life. He continued to exercise and climbed the long way around the little jagged hill in the middle of the island. As he continued, he shook off more of the awful depression and found his power rejuvenated by a much more positive attitude. Ricky had thought he wouldn’t be caught by that malady again, but he was arrogant in thinking he was through having those dark feelings. He vowed not to become so sure of himself again.
He concentrated on the path ahead as the rain increased. Ricky found soldiers dismantling the camp.
“Has the girl left yet?” he asked one of the soldiers packing up supplies.
Could she be on a ship? Of course, they would seek safety from the waves that had increased in size even since Ricky had arrived.
“She’s in the last tent to come down,” the soldier said, as wet and as miserable as Ricky.
Ricky moved quickly up the slope to five or six men frantically getting their camp torn down. He looked up and saw Mara poking her head out of the last tent standing.
“Do you think he’ll show up in this weather?” a familiar voice said from the tent.
“Not the way the storm is brewing. Before we decided to leave, none of the sentries reported anyone close to the island,” Mara said. “He’s probably moping around on the edge of some cliff waiting for a break in the weather,” she said. “The kind of foolish thing he typically does.”
“You shouldn’t be so hard on him, Mara. He saved your life in Applia.”
She sighed and withdrew her head. “I can be as hard on him as I want. He is so naive, it hurts. Will King Leon have him executed?”
“I don’t see a way out of that,” Nemo Mattia said. “If he takes you to the princess, then Farlotti will have them both. A traitor and a traitorous princess. I pity the poor boy and wished I didn’t have to do this.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Mara said. Ricky heard nothing but ice in her voice.
Ricky had heard enough. He generated the resonance, his cracking voice forgotten, and he deflected into the air.
“He’s here!” a soldier yelled, and Nemo exited the tent just as Ricky thrust himself high into the air. The winds began to push him south, and he let them carry him, high above the bay. He could barely control his emotions. Mara had remained an agent for the king. She thought him foolish and naive. His cheeks burned with the realization she spoke the truth. He had thought her a friend and ally all along, but she was never on his side. His plans for her to help with Jac’s ascendance to the throne had just been dashed.
He had been played, the
princess had been played, and Jac had been played. The King nearly succeeded in his little side game to expose the princess as he simultaneously sought out Dimani’s gold fields. Ricky clenched his fist. If Mara was an agent, then the ancient library was lost. He would know for sure if Merry never got the transcripts that Mara and he worked on since Winter’s Day. He nearly lost his composure and control on the spell at the thought, but he gathered his resolve and made another course correction, making sure he used deflection.
The storm became worse, and Ricky had nearly exhausted his power. He set down on a rocky point at the bottom of the cliffs. He didn’t know how long he sat, fatigued, angry, and disheartened, before he took advantage of a break in the storm. He sang and found enough resonance to fly up the cliff and locate the protection offered by the little camp that Tobia and he shared in the rocks.
“Where is Mara? The weather was too bad?” Tobia asked.
Ricky curled up by the sputtering fire. “She is a traitor, and her abduction was a trap for me and for Princess Pira.” Ricky shook his head in anger. If he had suffered any depression from his flight from Otta’s Isle, it had long ago burned away from his seething anger. “No, I am the traitor and glad to be one,” he said before he let Tobia in on Mara’s secret. He continued on, castigating himself for making her a friend and confidante.
“I was taken in myself,” Tobia said. “Her approach to spying was so passive she had us all fooled. So what do we do now, head for the mines?”
Ricky shook his head. “There is no time for that. Farlotti has already sailed, so we will have to rely on the knowledge existing from there. We will have to secure it and find a way to warn Saganet about something.”
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
~
A FEW SPRINKLES HAD MADE IT DOWN TO THE CAPITAL from the gale that had blown through Otta’s Bay. Ricky walked along the pavement that led to the docks. He found Baron Mansali’s trading establishment and walked in. He looked back at the four guards King Courer insisted accompany Ricky on the capital’s streets.
“I need to send a message. Please get me the manager.” The angry image of Loria’s final expression led Ricky to be convinced that Loria Mansali was probably in on Mara’s faked abduction since she was the one to tell Baron Mansali. Not only did he never want to see either girl again, but he also had, at that moment, an intense desire to throttle Loria Mansali. He nearly walked out in anger but took a deep breath to calm down as the manager came to the counter.
“I have an urgent message. It needs to be in Tossa tonight. I am a very good friend with Baron Mansali.”
“And what is the name of Baron Mansali’s best friend?” the manager said.
“Lord Hendrico Valian.”
“O” The man didn’t utter a sound, just mouthed his reply. He consulted a notebook. “I am the Dimani messenger. Could you write down what you want sent?”
Mara had probably told everybody everything, so if a royal spy read the message, it would be nothing new. He tried to be as cryptic as possible but made it clear that he was now a fugitive and the ‘warehouse library’ was about to be infested with royal rats.
“Does Baron Mansali get this?”
The manager looked up from his writing. “He does.”
Ricky put in a postscript that Mara’s abduction was a fake, and Loria was likely in on the fakery. He had done enough on that end. Fate would determine if the library could be saved or even if it still existed.
Ricky felt that King Leon had lopped off both his arms. He had little else to do except find out if the gold mines were real, when the Parantian and Vorrian troops would land in the capital, and he’d have to bear the bad news to Jac about his erstwhile sweetheart.
He trudged back to the flat. Mirano and Siria were gone. Tobia was visiting his wife to get more information. Ricky didn’t want to sit in the empty living room and walked out to the garden, now that the sprinkles had put a nice glisten on everything and the sun had come out. He wondered how much sun he could let into his own heart after this. He was still plagued by Mara’s disdainful comment that he was so naive it hurt. He knew she spoke the truth. Thinking she was his friend proved it.
He sat on a bench, wondering if he should just take a ship back to the mainland and return to the academy. Maybe he could head for Naparra and buy a little house and a vineyard or something and live a quiet life. The academy wouldn’t work because Mara’s spying had spoiled any future he might entertain in his home country. Naparra wouldn’t work, because he was just an heir, and Ricky couldn’t picture himself leading a simple life in hiding, not now.
“Ricky?” Someone called to him from his bedroom window. That was Jac’s voice. What was he doing in the capital?
“I’m here.” Ricky stood up and waved to his friend, if he was still a friend.
“I barely made it through your guards. Why are they here?” Jac reached into his coat pocket. “I got a letter from Mara this morning,” Jac said. Ricky hoped the pain on his friend's face was real. “Loria said she was abducted, but this says she is on her way back to Fisttia.” His friend frowned. “She writes that Vana helped her get passage from the southern port.” He gave Ricky the letter.
After reading, Ricky folded it up and handed it to Jac. “This is a letter of lies built upon lies,” Ricky said. “Sit down. I have a sad, sad tale to tell.”
When Ricky finished, Jac crumpled the letter in his hand. “So Loria gets her revenge after all. Now that I think of it, Mara all but asked to come along. She was in on King Leon’s invasion all along.”
“I never would have imagined it. We were both fooled. I let Mara in on a quite a few sorcerous secrets. When we worked on the mining project, a man showed up at the door. I thought it was odd that he even had a key to the outside gate, but he probably assisted Mara in her spying. I thought she was a true friend, but her initial deception continued all the way from the Juvenile Home to Otta’s Isle. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust anyone, again.”
“You can trust me,” Jac said. “I just came from King Courer, and he told me you intervened on my behalf. I had new information to tell him!”
“You did?” Ricky said.
“The gold mine isn’t real. Ticco had too much to drink two nights ago and enjoyed boasting about how he put one over on King Leon while usurping King Courer. Father was in on it.”
“Did King Courer believe you?”
Jac nodded. “He wouldn’t have if you hadn’t said much the same thing. Gods, but you have courage. Is that why you have the king’s guards posted outside?”
“Naive courage,” Ricky said. They both laughed and shook their heads. “What will the king do?”
“All I know is Princess Pira has been meeting with him today. I received this letter and decided to give you the news about Mara.”
Ricky clutched his hands. “So now it’s all down to diplomacy.”
“Not with hundreds of soldiers converging from the North and the South.”
“Exactly what is Dimani’s relationship with Vorria?”
“That’s something I don’t understand,” Jac said. “Mother and I have known what Father and Ticco did. We’ve gotten along with the Vorrians for hundreds of years. They already have what they want.”
“Tobia is getting some information for me. Are you staying at your family’s townhouse?”
“How could I?” Jac said. “I’ve turned against my father. I’ll be staying at Falcon Castle at King Courer’s request.”
“Do you have that coin Duke Noacci made up?”
Jac fished his from out of his purse. “This?”
“It is time to share a secret with you. Mara already knows most of it, so I’m not risking as much as I thought I would be.”
Ricky sat down and pulled out his wand. “I don’t have to sing as hard,” Ricky said, not revealing his vocal malady. He infused the coin with the link spell and gave it to Jac.
The link slid into place. You can hear me, can’t you?
We are linked through this coin. If you want to contact me, you can just hold the coin and think of opening a door to my mind. When you want to stop, close the door.
Jac grinned. If you can hear me, clap your hands three times.
Ricky complied with Jac’s request.
What if I don’t want to talk to you? This isn’t mind readin, is it? Jac said.
Just close the mental door, or don’t get near to the coin. I don’t know where I’ll end up after this, but I think you can always get in contact through the coin.
Jac flipped the coin and laughed. “I’m not much of a sorcerer, but this is incredible! Thank you for trusting me, Ricky. With what my father, brother, and girlfriend have done, I’m a little low on trust myself.” He put out his hand. “I’m your man if you are mine.”
Ricky nodded. “I’m with you, Jac.”
Mara’s actions had hurt Ricky. She was never a true friend during the entire time he knew her. King Leon probably would have seized the ancient library right after the battle of the barracks if he hadn’t needed Mara to get close to Jac. Ricky felt so used.
~
Sometime after Jac left, Tobia caught Ricky rummaging in the pantry.
“Neither of us can get any information on the gold mines. Everyone who knows something is as silent as a corpse,” Tobia said.
Ricky shook his head. “King Courer got the proof he needed. Can we talk to Minnie?”
“Lord Wamia is due in before dinner. Now is not a good time.”
“I can think of no time better. I want to meet Lord Wamia as soon as possible.”
“I will arrange something,” Tobia said as he left again.
~
Tobia walked behind Ricky, followed by the ever-present guards, as they entered Lord Wamia’s townhouse.
“Dinner is ready,” Minnie said, dressed a bit more elegantly than usual.
“Good. Both of you will join me,” Ricky said.
Tobia looked at Minnie and nodded his head.
Ducri Wamia joined them in the hallway. “Lord Valian. You have had a colorful stay in Dimani. That even includes a mysterious disappearance, I hear. Have you had anything to do with King Courer becoming panicked about recent events?”
