The Dotard

by Greg Curtis

  The latter thought was quickly dismissed. Of course they were heading for him! Trouble always seemed to find him. It was only a matter of finding out what sort of trouble they were bringing to his door.

  For a brief moment he wondered if he could turn the steam wagon around and run. But he quickly decided against it. The steam wagon didn't turn easily, and not without a lot of room. Even having four turning wheels there wasn't enough room when the wagon was twenty-nine feet long. It steered much like a boat on land. But even if he did manage to turn and run, the wagon couldn't outrun a galloping horse. It could maintain a steady speed as fast as a man could sprint, and over the long distance that would win the race. But the riders were too close. There wasn't enough distance between them. They'd catch him before their horses tired. It was a pity though. If he could have made it back through the gates they would never have been able to follow him. Only wizards and those they brought with them could pass through the Faerie gates.

  Still, he decided as he sat on the padded leather bench seat, and continued on toward Coldwater, there was no point in regretting what couldn't be changed. He'd just have to deal with whatever trouble was riding his way.

  Naturally, Edrick suspected that it had something to do with Wilberton's latest misfiring spell and the Argani. Why else would people be coming to see him? Still, he had hoped that his involvement in that had ended.

  It had been a week and a half since he had given the Argani the unicorn hairs. That was more than enough time for a letter to have been written and sent, and for the Guild in Rivernia to have read it and decided on a course of action. Or inaction as had seemed more likely to him. But as he hadn’t left his home during that time he didn't know what had happened. He'd been busy. First, he'd been busy finishing off his chicken coop and repairing the damage to his garden after the unicorns had finished with it. After that he'd spent time catching up on his studies instead of going to town. He'd only come now because he was out of flour. There was no bread without flour.

  As the distance between him and the riders narrowed, he was able to see them more clearly. To see that they were a man and a woman – and that they weren't locals. Their appearance suggested they were from one of the cities. Firstly, their clothes were too neat for anyone from the town. They’d also dressed their horses with bright, pretty looking chest straps instead of the more usual plain leather ones. It was the sort of things nobles liked to dress their horses with. And there were no nobles in Coldwater.

  That worried him. Could his secret be out? He was beginning to suspect that neither Carrie nor her grandfather were committed to keeping it any longer. Certainly Carrie had been quite cavalier about his deception with the Argani. Wilberton simply loathed him. He would cheerfully tell anyone everything he knew if he thought it would upset him. As to what the Argani knew and who they might have told he couldn't begin to guess. He still held a faint hope that the spell had been fixed and they had finally gone home. But it was highly unlikely.

  Once Edrick was clear of the edge of the forest and the riders were only a few hundred yards away, he decided it was time to find out what these people wanted with him. Because he knew they were coming for him. They were still riding straight for him and one of them – the woman – was actually waving at him.

  But while he was pushing the clutch lever to disconnect the steam engine from the central wheels and applying the brakes to stop and meet with them he discovered something else. He knew them. Or he knew the man at least. And the man knew him.

  “Lukas Edrick Baraman!” The man appeared a little shocked. “As I live and breathe! I would never have guessed!”

  “Master Thomas Thatchwell.” Edrick returned the favour as the steam wagon came to a halt just in front of them. “I had not expected to see you either.” But he quickly guessed why his old magic tutor was there. Obviously he had something to do with the Guild of the Arcane. Which at least meant that the Guild had decided to do something.

  Still, it surprised him to think that his old tutor would have had anything to do with the Guild. He had always spoken of them as a collection of miserable old dotards. And that was his description of them on a good day! He'd called them far worse as Edrick recalled. Which made it hard to believe he was now wearing a Guild ring.

  His old tutor looked almost exactly the same as he had ten years before. An older man with greying hair and an ever-present sour look on his face as though he'd been eating lemons. Was there a touch more grey at his temples? Perhaps a slight thickening around his middle? Edrick couldn't tell. But he thought the sourness had grown. As for Master Thatchwell's companion, she looked like a younger version of him. Pretty enough, but with a stern expression on her face. Maybe they were related? Or maybe Master Thatchwell's sourness was contagious.

  “Your father will be glad to hear that you're alive and well. He'd thought you were dead. That you'd run into some trouble on the road somewhere.”

  “My father will never know!” Edrick immediately contradicted him. For good or ill I am a wizard, and that carries with it some weight. I may not be a member of the Guild of the Arcane, but I still obey the laws. And no wizard crosses another. I say that to reveal my secret would be to cross me.” Edrick put that as firmly as he could.

  “Also no one in Coldwater knows I am a wizard. No one knows me as anything other than Edrick of Holdfast; struggling silver miner. And that too is my will.”

  “You claim the custom that no wizard crosses another. But what about you?” The woman beside his tutor abruptly snapped at him, clearly annoyed by his tone and the fact that he seemed to be giving them orders. “Did you not cross Wilberforce Wilberton? Is he not a member in good standing of the Guild?”

  “No, I did not cross him,” he told her firmly. “The Argani came to me in the company of Carrie Wilberton, and they asked me to write a letter to the Guild outlining their plight. I told them I could do no such thing. The letter had to come from them as the victims. I do not know what they wrote as I had no part in its writing. The only thing I did was to give them a token to include with the letter, in order to make sure it was considered.” And why he wondered, was she so angry with him? He had done nothing to offend her. Had he?

  “Not that! He says you spelled him!”

  “Spelled him?” It took him a moment to understand what she was talking about. “Oh! That!” Edrick was surprised by the charge. He'd completely forgotten about the incident. He would have thought the aged wizard would have too.

  “That's true but only indirectly, and in a minor way and under the most desperate of circumstances. At the time the Argani were arriving in Coldwater at an alarming rate through his malfunctioning portal. There were scores of them already on his property. Wilberton was busy yelling and screaming at them, seemingly incapable of understanding that they had no idea what he was saying. Meanwhile, the Argani were becoming increasingly angry. Frustrated, lost and frightened. It was clear that the only thing they were sure of was that the crazed old fool yelling at them, had something to do with their abduction. Some of them were drawing weapons.” They hadn't been actually, but he had no qualms in embellishing the story a little.

  “Had nothing been done I had no doubt that they would have killed Wilberton and his granddaughter, or he would have killed them. Either way there would have been innocent blood shed. And in time it would have spread. There might even have been a battle for the town itself and blood in the streets. I cast a general spell of common tongue, before the senile old fool's latest misfiring spell became another disaster. This time a bloody one. It might even have caused a war.

  Edrick faced her down squarely. He knew he was on strong ground. Even she surely knew that. But she didn't seem pleased about it. Perhaps because she didn't want to have to report what he'd said back to her Guild. But she didn't try to deny his story either. Probably because even if she didn't actually know if he was telling the truth, she guessed he was. It led to a long awkward silence.

  “So… is the problem finally fix
ed?” Edrick was the first to speak. “Have the Argani finally been able to go home?”

  “No.” Master Thatchwell, looked away, toward the distant hills. “Master Wilberton still can't remember what spell he cast exactly, and with the portal gone it's too late to try and work it out.”

  “So, the Argani are stuck here?” Master Thatchwell and his companion both nodded.

  Edrick should have expected it he supposed. In the end the frogs hadn't gone back to wherever they'd come from. They'd simply scattered into the nearest waterways and found themselves new homes. Probably most of them had been eaten. And as for the green and the ducks, the magic had faded over time. It hadn't been fixed. None of Wilberton's mistakes ever got fixed.

  “So, Coldwater now has seventeen hundred new residents. Do you know if any decisions have been made as to where they're going to stay? And what they'll do to survive? Can they farm or grow crops, or do they have skills that will help them find gainful employment? Has the Mayor drawn up any plans to ensure the Argani's peaceful settlement in Coldwater?” Edrick asked the questions, not really expecting that Master Thatchwell and the woman would have any answers.

  “Winged elves,” the woman told him. “Someone called them that and the name seems to have stuck. Now they're building themselves some new homes in the eastern forest, and cursing Wilberforce Wilberton's name.”

  “It wouldn't be the first-time people have cursed his name,” Edrick told her somewhat disrespectfully. “And it won't be the last. He needs to be taken in hand.” Actually, he needed to have his magic stripped from him, cruel though that might be. But whether there was any sort of spell that could do it he didn't know.

  “They've decided that they're going to be stuck here for some time and will have to make the best of things.” She ignored his remark and carried on. They’re already starting to plant crops and set out their village.”

  While the woman went on to tell him more about the Argani and their plans, Edrick found himself having to suppress a feeling of failure. There was nothing else he could have done to send them home, but still he wanted to have been able to do something. And he found himself wondering why none of the Argani had come to see him since then. It had been a week and a half. If they knew the location of a gate from their home to the world of the faerie he would have expected them to visit. Even if they only had a guess. Carrie would have brought them as quickly as she knew how. So maybe they didn't.

  “And Master Wilberton has declared that you are an enemy of the people and the Guild,” the woman continued. “He's complained to the Guild about your actions.”

  “So be it.” Edrick sighed. Carrie had already told him that her grandfather had fixated on him. He should have expected that the senile old fool would have complained, he supposed. The man could cling to his anger if nothing else. “You've heard my answers, I'm happy to repeat them under oath and spell.”

  “And you will!” The woman told him bluntly. “A master wizard has complained about your actions and that complaint will have to be heard. That is why we came. To inform you that you are on notice.”

  On notice? Edrick wasn't quite sure what that meant – or if the Guild could truly claim any authority over him. But he didn't like the sound of it.

  “He's also told everyone in the entire town that you're a wizard. That your name's not Edrick of Holdfast. And that you're a criminal. That too will have to be heard.”

  “A criminal?” That surprised Edrick. The fact that the wizard had crossed him didn't. He'd long known that the man was on the edge. And that his anger might tip him over. But to call him a criminal? That seemed an odd charge, not least because he had done nothing to support such an accusation. And yet the Argani had thought the same thing as he recalled. “What am I supposed to have done?”

  “You're a rogue wizard.”

  A rogue wizard!? Edrick stared at her in confusion. What was that? Was it even a crime he wondered? He couldn't think that it was. But it didn't really matter. Now his secret was out. Even if people didn't know his name, the story would spread, and in time one of his father's agents would hear it. Then his troubles would begin.

  “Yes, it is an odd charge.” Master Thatchwell obviously saw the confusion in Edrick's face. But he deliberately misunderstood it. “You're scarcely a wizard at all! Wizards have to study, and you were never keen on such activities. Have you advanced at all in the last ten years?”

  “I study,” Edrick defended himself, suddenly feeling like an eighteen-year-old student again. “Spells, not potions or enchantments. But I have a small library and I have been working my way through it. Mostly though I work practical spells.”

  “We shall have to see. But really, I doubt that you have achieved anything near to what you're capable of. Tell me, do you still frequent the alehouses and gambling parlours at all hours?”

  Edrick reddened a little. He tried not to, but there was more than a little truth in his old tutor's words. But that had been ten years ago when he was still part of the nobility. His behaviour by their standards was quite normal. Since then, he'd mended his ways. Mostly because he'd had no choice.

  “I'm not the same young man I was Master Thatchwell.” Edrick defended himself, not completely sure why he felt the need to. The man wasn't his tutor anymore. “I learned a lot from you and my other tutors and I've applied it. But I've also learned a lot of other things. I've become a capable carpenter and farmer in the last ten years. I’ve studied not just my spells but also history and technology. I’ve learned to cook and clean and do all the things that I used to have servants do for me. I am not the dilettante you once accused me of being.”

  Of course, he also wasn't the wizard that Master Thatchwell might have wanted him to become. Nor was he the noble businessman his father would have wanted him to be. But he was happy with who he was.

  “I hope that's true. You had a strong talent, and you seemed completely set on wasting it. It was a terrible waste. But even if you've done as you say, you could not have achieved as much as you would if you’d had proper guidance.”

  “Guidance?” Edrick wasn't quite sure what he was suggesting.

  “The Guild of the Arcane.”

  “With respect Master Thatchwell, that does not sound like you. The last I recall you were cursing the Guild for their many failings.” He could have charged him with far worse crimes against them – it would have been true. But he didn't want to embarrass him in front of his companion.

  “You say you've changed these past ten years? Well, so has the Guild. It has become something more than it was ten or twenty years ago. It is now an organisation dedicated to advancing the study of magic. Teaching students. Supporting research. Encouraging professional standards among its members.”

  “I see.” And he did. He saw quite clearly that he didn't want to belong to the Guild. But as he looked at his old tutor's expression and the even more hostile look on the woman's face, he realised that they would not want to hear that. He held his tongue.

  “Thank you for the information.” He nodded politely to them. “And if you could give Carrie this and tell her I'll have some more silver ingots in a couple of days for the Argani.” He held out a sack that he grabbed from the seat beside him. Then after she took it, he grabbed for the wheel and started turning it.

  “What are you doing?” Master Thatchwell asked.

  “Turning around. Clearly I can't go back to Coldwater again. Ever. My father's agents will hear the rumours and will put two and two together in time. No doubt they will try to bring me home. From now on I'll be doing my trading in the towns on the western side of the Sitwell Forest.”

  “Just say no.”

  “To my father? Have you not met the man?! The Lord does not take no from anyone. Least of all his own son. He would have his men drag me back in chains if that was what it took. And I'd guess he still wants to wed me off to Gerta Banner. She'd be sixty now – and six hundred pounds. But commerce takes priority over family.”

  “If the G
uild wants to talk to me, they can do it in my home. Carrie knows where I live.” He pushed the lever that reconnected the engine to the drive wheels and was immediately thrown back in his seat as the steam wagon lurched forward. Then he opened the air vents to the fire box to generate more flame and more steam and with it, more speed.

  “You're running away again?” The wizard shook his head as if it was saddened by Edrick’s actions. “You should face your problems head on.”

  “Wait until you're eighteen again and being forced to wed a fifty-year-old woman against your will! A woman who can't even stand up or clean herself because she's so fat. A woman you don't even know. And all so the family estate can gain some new trading outlets. Then tell me about facing your problems! I will not be wed against my will to anyone,” Edrick shouted at him so as to be heard above the noise of the engine as the steam wagon began its long slow turn. “Least of all for a trading alliance.”

  “Oh, and tell your Guild that it's me who has a complaint against Wilberton. If the senile old wind bag's going to cross me by revealing my secrets he's going to have to answer for that. And you're finally going to have to take him in hand.”