by Wark, RM
Fallon smiled but said nothing. His thoughts were now consumed with the image of the beautiful girl with long black hair whom he had seen during the Komanite raid.
“Shall I bring you another?” The pretty redheaded waitress had made her way back to their table.
“I should love another pint, my love,” said Gentry, smiling from ear to ear.
“None for me, thank you,” replied Fallon. “I must arrive home before the ten o’clock bell tolls or else Beatrice shall make certain my Heptaday is a miserable one.”
“Well, it was good to see the person who occupies so much of my Gentry’s time. Might you be requiring his services again next week?” Daria asked.
Fallon was surprised by the question. Gentry had not been working much for the Steward as of late, and the only times he had seen Gentry recently were on these trips to the pub. “I am not certain…” he said, looking towards Gentry confused. But Gentry was paying no attention to Fallon. He was too busy staring at his lovely girlfriend.
“Aye, all right – hopefully I shall see you again soon. Safe travels!” Daria said, as Fallon rose from the table.
Gentry raised his empty pint glass to his friend. “Safe travels!”
*************
It was in the later part of Heptuly when Gentry finally caught his break. He watched as Clive’s mother, the angry woman with red hair, mounted a horse.
“Do you have everything you need, Mother?” asked Clive.
“Do you not see my bags?”
“Are you certain you do not want me to come along?”
“I have been riding horses longer than you have been alive; besides, you would be of no use to me in a sick woman’s bedchambers. I shall be fine.”
“Aye, Mother.”
“I trust you shall take good care of the house until I return.”
“Aye, Mother.”
The night before, Gentry had overheard Clive tell Dennison and his crew that his aunt in Jessum was sick, and that his mother was planning to visit. He watched as the old woman rode off, and then he waited.
Clive headed out to the Settler’s Inn after sunset. For once, Gentry did not follow him. Instead, he carefully made his way towards the front door of the house. He was pleasantly surprised to find the door unlocked. I suppose Clive is not in the habit of locking up as his mother is always around, Gentry thought.
It would be several hours before Clive came home. Gentry knew that Clive did not drink much –his mother did not suffer any drunkards in her household – so he could not count on his victim to be impaired. That is why he grabbed the largest object he could – a pewter candlestick – and swung it hard at Clive’s head when the man entered the door. The lanky redhead with bad teeth fell to the floor with a loud thump. He was knocked out cold, and blood was starting to run down his face.
It took all of Gentry’s strength to lift the bleeding man onto Casper, and then somehow keep him there while he tried to mount the horse himself. The horse neighed loudly and bucked a little when Gentry finally managed to climb onboard, making it clear he was not happy with the awkward and heavy load. Holding Clive with one hand and the reins in the other, Gentry urged the reluctant horse forward. “Wizards be damned, Casper, we need to get going now. Luca’s house is only a few miles down the road. You can make it, you whiny beast.”
In all the time he had been returning to Colton, Gentry had yet to see Luca’s mother again. The little brown shack of a house proved useful, though. This time he did not enter the house; instead, he brought a small wooden chair outside and tied the redheaded man up. Then Gentry waited.
The moon was still in the sky when Clive finally began to stir. His head was pounding. When he tried to raise his hand to locate the source of the pulsating pain, he found he could not move his arms. Confused as to where he was and why he was tied to a chair, Clive began looking all around him. It did not take long for him to spot the man sitting a few yards away. He recognized Gentry immediately.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice cold.
“Revenge.”
“Revenge for what?” snapped Clive. “Was not throwing me into the River Nye so that I might drown enough?”
“The boy. The boy you beat to death. His name was Luca.”
Clive grew silent. His face betrayed nothing of the thoughts in his head.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“No.”
“Why did you do it?”
Clive said nothing.
“Damn you, speak if you want to live,” Gentry said through clenched teeth.
Clive did not speak. He only glared at Gentry.
Gentry approached Clive and forced a rag into the bound man’s mouth. “You should have spoken when you had your chance.” With those words, he pushed Clive’s chair backwards.
It seemed a long way down and it was only after Clive – and the back of the chair – hit the ground that the redheaded man realized he had been pushed into a hole. His head buzzed and started to bleed again from the force of the impact. He struggled to free himself from the ropes. “Let me out of here, you fool!” Clive tried to scream, but the rag muffled everything.
Gentry walked out of Clive’s view for a moment. When he returned he was holding a shovel. Clive continued to scream, to no avail, as Gentry began shoveling dirt on top of him. By the time the sun came up the next morning, Gentry was gone, and so was the hole.
Four down, one to go.
*************
The summer was in full swing, evidenced by the endless stream of cool and foggy days, with some absolutely glorious days of blue skies and warm sun mixed in from time to time. Fallon once again made his trek out to the family farm in Littlebrook to celebrate his brother Zeke’s birthday. He could not believe the blond-haired boy was turning nine this year.
Fallon and Zeke spent their days helping their father on the farm, and spent many an evening enjoying long talks on the front porch and the frequent visits from Jonas, Elizabeth and Talia. Fallon could not eat enough of Elizabeth’s and Talia’s breads and pies. “You should sell these to the village markets – people would pay good money for the best baked goods ever,” he mumbled, his mouth stuffed with sweet bread. Elizabeth laughed and Talia blushed deeply.
Having spent some time with Gentry in the local pubs since his last visit home, Fallon was a little wiser to Talia’s odd behavior. He bore witness to many strange actions by Gentry and Daria as their love began to blossom. Nevertheless, in this particular case the feelings were not mutual. Talia was a sweet and pretty girl, but she was young yet, and she had always seemed more like a sister to him than anything else. Fallon did not know what to do. He did not want to hurt her, but he did not want to leave her hoping for things that would never come to be, either. So for the moment he just tried to pretend he did not notice what was going on.
A few weeks later Fallon climbed up on Attawan, waved good-bye and headed back into the Village Square. He tried not to notice that Talia was sobbing and being comforted by her mother. “What is the matter, my darling?” Elizabeth asked, concerned. Talia never did answer.
*************
The Town of Lucerne is a beautiful place, nestled in the foothills of the Moraga Mountains near the shores of Lake Brielle. Its twin town, Orinda, lies over the border in Quintara, but it is no match for the beacon of Aberdeen. Lucerne is a center of higher learning with its own university, like Bartow, though on a much smaller scale. It is a refuge for artists and dreamers, and Lady Adeline – with all of her wit and eccentricities – fits right in.
Having settled down on a quiet island in the middle of Lake Brielle, Lady Adeline is far enough removed from the day-to-day happenings in Lucerne to garner much attention. While she is also well-versed in memory spells, she rarely has to use them; her habit of radically changing her appearance, her name, and her profession every few years has helped maintain her anonymity. As far as the townspeople are concerned, she is just another poet, professor, artist, jewe
lry maker, novelty store owner in Lucerne. They have absolutely no idea that a wizard walks among them from time to time.
When Lady Dinah and Gordon finally arrived in town, they sought out a stable to keep their horse and pony and then went on a hunt for a boat. No one seemed particularly interested in letting the traveler with a dwarf take the boat out into the lake by themselves. “I am the captain, I shall take you where you want to go,” they insisted. But Lady Dinah did not want them to come along. When she had inquired about the island in the middle of the lake, they had all looked at her as if she were mad. She quickly dropped the subject, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to Lady Adeline’s secret refuge.
Eventually Gordon was able to convince the owner of a small wooden canoe to let them borrow it. Lady Dinah paid handsomely for it, however; the gold pieces she handed over were enough to buy a brand new boat and then some. After promising to return it within a few days, they took off in the little canoe, headed in no particular direction.
Lake Brielle is large enough that you cannot see the opposite shoreline. Even if you could, a light mist always hovered above the water, obscuring all distant viewpoints. Gordon continued to row, but after a few hours it was clear he was becoming tired. “Shall we head back, my lady? Perhaps we can set out tomorrow with more provisions and possibly a map of the lake?”
The wizard frowned. She did not want to give up this easily. “Just a little further, Gordon, I have a feeling it is around here somewhere.” She grabbed his canteen, uttered a few of those nonsensical wizard words, and returned it to him completely full.
His thirst quenched, Gordon continued to row on for a few more hours. He was confident that he had been rowing in a straight line and would have expected to see the opposite shore by now, but all he could see was mist and water all around them. Lady Dinah conjured up some stale bread and he persisted, but Gordon knew they only had a few more hours of sunlight left and they must find land fast, or risk sleeping in the canoe that night.
After another two hours of rowing and seemingly getting nowhere, Lady Dinah finally admitted defeat. “Turn around, Gordon. We shall try again tomorrow.”
Gordon was relieved, but he worried that he would not be able to guide the canoe back to shore. His arms were aching, his belly was rumbling (though not enough to eat any more of Lady Dinah’s stale bread), and he had not seen the shoreline in nearly six hours. Making matters worse, a heavy fog seemed to have settled upon the lake, and Gordon could only see but a few feet in front of him. He was mentally preparing himself for a long night when the canoe was struck on its side, nearly tipping them over.
“What was that?” asked Lady Dinah.
“Who goes there?” replied a voice in the distance. “What are you doing on my lake?”
Through the wisps of fog, they could see another small vessel nearby, with a solitary occupant standing in its hull.
“Lady Adeline?” ventured Lady Dinah. “Is that you? It is me, Lady Dinah.”
“Prove it.”
This made the weary Lady Dinah livid. “Unbelievable! You and your father are so much alike! Absolutely no hospitality, whatsoever. Prove it, she says. I shall prove it.” With that, Lady Dinah lifted up her wand and aimed it at the other vessel. She started to chant, but before any spell could be completed, Lady Adeline interjected.
“Aye, all right. You have proven yourself, Lady Dinah. Put down your wand. Please.” Lady Adeline threw a rope into the canoe. “Hold on to that. I shall pull you in.”
They were towed behind Lady Adeline’s boat for another hour before they made it to the shore of a tiny island. Several helpers came down to greet them and pull the boats onto a small sandy cove.
Once safely on ground, the two wizards faced each other. Lady Dinah almost did not recognize Lady Adeline. The last time Lady Dinah had seen her, the wizard sported a head of long red curls; now her hair was straight and blonde. But the eyes were the same, a soft green inherited from her father, Lord Milton.
“How do you do, Lady Dinah,” Lady Adeline bowed in greeting. “Please forgive my distrust. You cannot be too careful these days.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Lord Edmund has sent word that Eastern Wizards have been sighted in the West. They were in Lucerne, my lady!”
“Aye, I have just come from Lord Edmund’s and am aware of the troubling news,” replied Lady Dinah.
Lady Adeline turned her attention back to the lake. “In truth, I was hoping you were my father,” she said. “He was supposed to be here by now – and with Lord Edmond’s ill tidings…” Lady Adeline’s voice trailed off, her face wrought with worry.
Lady Dinah thought it unlikely that something had happened to the old wizard and tried to reassure Lady Adeline. “The winter was particularly harsh this year. Perhaps the Atlian Mountains proved more challenging for Lord Milton to cross. I am certain he shall be here shortly. It would be nice to see him again.”
“You have seen him recently?” asked Lady Adeline, a bit surprised.
“Not recently. A year ago or so, in Bartow. He was well.”
“Oh,” Lady Adeline replied; she remained troubled. Nevertheless she managed a small smile and looked towards her guests. “Now, please follow me. I look forward to hearing what brings the queen and her dwarf to Lucerne, once you have a chance to freshen up and join me for dinner.”
*************
With its intricate woodwork and floor-to-ceiling panels of glass all around, Lady Adeline’s lake house reminded Lady Dinah a bit of Lord Quaid’s cabin in the forest. But it had a softer touch, with random colorful artwork decorating every nook. In addition, Lady Adeline’s helpers were friendly and lucid, not at all like the listless people who served Lord Quaid in a perpetual trancelike state.
After freshening up, Lady Dinah and Gordon made their way to the dining hall. It was a beautiful room overlooking the lake. The fog was gone and the sun was setting, lighting up the sky in an array of colors that were magnificently reflected in the waters of Lake Brielle. They dined on fish and fruit and bread and drank heartily of Lady Adeline’s white wine.
“This wine is most excellent,” said Gordon, who was now on his third glass.
“Aye. I enrolled in a wine-making course at the university some time ago. It has served me well.” Lady Adeline said this with a broad smile, and it was clear Gordon was not the only one enjoying the wine a bit too much. Then she turned her attention to Lady Dinah. “So tell me, Lady Dinah, what brings you to Lucerne?”
“I am searching for some of my mother’s old journals. Her library was divided up amongst some of the wizards before the Second War, and I should like those particular journals back.”
“And why might you be interested in the journals? What is in them?” inquired Lady Adeline.
Lady Dinah was somewhat perturbed at the question. “I do not know,” she said truthfully. “They are encoded by a spell at the moment. They must all be together in order to break the spell.”
“Well, what do you think might be in them?” It was clear Lady Adeline would not let the subject rest.
Lady Dinah sighed. “My mother met with one of the Stewards of Reed about five hundred years ago when an unusual situation arose. I am interested in knowing what came of that conversation, because the village finds itself in a similar situation again, and their own records were lost to a fire.”
“What situation?” asked the wizard, pouring herself yet another glass of wine.
Lady Dinah was becoming annoyed. “I am not at liberty to discuss it,” she said firmly.
Lady Adeline let it be known with her expression that she did not appreciate being kept in the dark, but eventually she shrugged. “Well, I do not know why you wasted your time in coming here. I do not have any of your mother’s journals.”
Lady Dinah’s heart sank. “Would you mind if I had a look anyway?”
“You may do as you please, my Queen.”
The next morning one of Lady Adeline’s attendants showed Lady Dinah to the library
. After two days of searching, Lady Dinah confirmed for herself that it did not hold any items of her mother’s. The trip had been a waste of time.
The following day, Lady Dinah and Gordon stepped back into the canoe and headed for the shores of Lucerne.
“Well, perhaps we shall have better luck in Middleton,” the wizard sighed as they rounded up their horse and pony later that day. She was not interested in wasting any more time in Lucerne, no matter how attractive the town was.
*************
Edna had a feeling something was wrong when she found the front door not only unlocked, but slightly ajar.
“Clive?” she called out cautiously as she pushed the door open. “Are you here? I am home.”
Having just buried her sister in Jessum, Edna had been thinking it would be nice to have some time to herself and her thoughts, but at the moment she found herself wishing to hear her son’s voice answer back.
Her eyes surveyed the entry hall. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the pewter candlestick on the ground near the corner. She set down her bags, walked over to the candlestick and picked it up. The blood had long since dried, but it was impossible to mistake. She turned back to the door, her body shaking a little. Her eyes moved to the floor. The stains were hard to make out against the dark wood, but they were there – spots and smears of what she presumed was dried blood. But that was where the trail ended. If there had been any blood on the front porch, it had been long washed away by recent rains.
“Clive?” she called out again, this time on the verge of tears. “Clive, you answer me now, you fool!” But he did not answer. Edna tore out of the house and headed down the road towards Dennison’s house. For once he was actually home. He was standing on his front porch, holding his infant son in his arms.
“Edna, when did you return? Is Clive with you?”
“Why would Clive be with me?” she asked, her voice breaking.
