Wizard's Blood [Part One]

by Bob Blink

  The riders never tarried on their journey, moving steadily through the crowd. Early on they had crossed the bridge that spanned the river, and then followed a steady northwest course that would soon have them out of Carta. If that happened, following might not be as easy any longer. Once the number of people thinned, it would be more obvious someone was shadowing the men’s every turn.

  Fortunately, their luck held. While they felt the need to fall back a bit, they were able to tail the two men without being observed until they turned into a very nice manor on the outskirts of town. They came to a stop and watched as the men rode up the wide roadway. Partway up the road they stopped briefly to talk with a man on foot who seemed to be patrolling the grounds.

  “This is quite a place,” Asari observed. “It’s not the kind of place I expected them to lead us to. Looks like some Lord’s estate.”

  “It looks really nice,” Steph agreed. “If you look close though, I think someone has been clever about making the best of appearances.”

  The lack of understanding was clear on Asari’s face.

  “I think it’s more of an elaborate hunting lodge, and not as big as one might think. Look how the front fence ends at the hillside off to the right, and again at the stand of trees on the other side. A nice sized place, but pretty small for a Lord. Also, look out back behind the building. At first glance it seems like the lands go way back to the hills there, maybe a mile or two. But if you look close there’s a small river that cuts across the back behind the house no more than fifty yards away. I’ll bet the lands on the far side of that river are on the King’s preserve. Bet whoever owns that place poaches on them too.”

  Steph was watching closely, and tapped Asari and pointed. “Look, there’s another man on foot. I wonder what is so important that it needs two guards in full daylight. We need to leave the horses and have a look.”

  After tethering their rides, Asari and Steph slipped into the trees on the left-hand border of the property. It didn’t take long to spot the watcher on this side of the property and avoid him as they made their way to the back of the structure. “There has to be a servant’s entrance in the back. These Lords never want the hired help to be too noticeable to their guests.”

  As Steph predicted, a much smaller entry could be seen than the ornate paneled doors out front. From the crates and boxes, it appeared that this entrance also served as the means for tradesmen and merchants to deliver supplies for the owner’s guests. Now that they were close, a small dirt road could be seen that passed close to the side of the house and then through the trees to the road out front, all out of view of anyone in the house.

  Surprisingly the small door was secured, and no servants seemed to be anywhere around. Steph demonstrated a seldom advertised skill, and within moments he’d used his belt knife to slip the inside latch and afford them entrance to the manor.

  Asari and Steph moved quickly, but as quietly as they could. If they didn’t hurry, they’d miss any conversations between the riders and whomever they came to see. As soon became apparent, their caution was unnecessary. The manor was virtually deserted. They made their way out of the narrower hallways used by the staff, and soon were walking carefully down the wide stone halls of the manor proper. They could hear faint voices a bit further down the hall, but couldn’t discern the subject being discussed. They tried to slip closer, but as they approached the voices seemed to be fading away. Asari was sure that at least one of the men had been shouting angrily.

  They continued following the voices checking as best they could at each break in the hallway where someone could be concealed or could come upon them unexpectedly. There was no one else there.

  Asari had already passed by one of the darker alcoves when Steph’s large hand reached out and restrained him from moving further.

  “What?” Asari asked softly.

  Steph pointed into the darkened corner. At first Asari didn’t understand, but as his eyes adjusted to the gloom he realized why he had been stopped. A section of the wall off to the right had been slid aside by some means, and in the darkened interior was a set of narrow stairs heading downward. If they hadn’t left it open, Asari and Steph would never have known of its existence.

  “By the Dragons,” he hissed. “This must be the place.”

  Steph nodded, but pulled Asari close so he could whisper. “There’s too many of them. We know of three ahead for sure, and there are probably more down below. There’s also the two outside. We haven’t seen anyone inside, but there might be someone. Now that we know about this place, we need to get help. We can be back before dark.”

  Asari shook his head. “Something’s happening now. I have a feeling, and I don’t like it. Jolan will be dead when we come back. I’m sure of it.”

  Asari smoothly pulled the Colt from his belt, pulled back the hammer as he had learned, and slipped up the little lever that Jolan had taught him made the gun safe. He already had one of the projectiles loaded into the chamber.

  Steph tried to press his point, but Asari was already moving down the small hidden stairway after the three men.

  “Dragons be Damned!” he said before pulling his own sword and starting after him.

  Chapter 35

  Jolan knew their time was rapidly running out. If Tomas’ relatives paid the ransom, an event likely to happen at any time now, then Falk would have no reason to keep them alive any longer. And if, for some reason, his relatives refused to come through with the money, Falk would soon cut his losses and move onto an easier target. He did not appear to be a patient man. Either way, there would be no reason for the man to keep them alive.

  His situation had deteriorated significantly. He had hoped for a break in the block that prevented him from using his magical abilities, but whatever else Dupree might be, he performed his duties well. Jolan hadn’t had a whiff of the power since regaining consciousness five days ago. Now he wasn’t sure it would matter if the opportunity were to appear or not. Five days without real food, and only a small glass of water two times a day. He was weak enough he didn’t know if he would be able to use the power if the chance presented itself. The guards had given them bread in addition to their water ration, but Jolan was sure it was a game with them. They had always left fresh fruit out on the desktop where it was out of reach but where he and Tomas were sure to see it, but the bread was badly molded, and smelled foul. From what he had read some years ago after he found mold on a loaf of bread after toasting and eating a slice, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with any moldy bread. Things were getting bad enough that this morning, however, he’d been sorely tempted to peel off the one or two small sections that looked relatively clear. Soon it wouldn’t matter.

  Tomas was far worse off than he was. The guards were inconsistent, some allowing a few words to be exchanged between the two men, and others coming down sharply on any attempt at conversation. That usually meant Tomas caught a fist or two since the guards were afraid to come into the cell with Jolan. As he feared, Tomas’ finger had become infected, and according to what the man had said was badly swollen and leaking a yellow puss. In addition, he’d given in to hunger, and had eaten some of the bread with the predictable results. As a result, he was very sick, and often didn’t want to talk even if one of the lenient guards was on duty.

  The guard duty never varied. They each took three-hour shifts. One of them stayed at the table out front where he could watch them, and four others cycled through the duty. At the moment two were off down the small hallway at the left of the cell room. Jolan had decided there must be a small room with beds, because they often disappeared down there for hours at a time.

  Jolan had thought a great deal about Asari while he had been detained here. He felt that he had let the youth down. After all they had gone through to get to Carta, and he let this happen. He hoped his friend wouldn’t get careless and go after Cheurt with the pistol. If he did, his chances of survival were slim. If only they could have found a way for Jolan to return home for a short
time. If he could have returned with a good rifle, they’d have had a real chance at the wizard bastard.

  His thoughts were interrupted when he heard voices coming down the narrow stairway at the end of the room. He moved over to the front left of his cell that was the only spot that allowed him to see who was entering the room. Jolan thought he recognized the voice as belonging to Falk, and his suspicion was verified when the Lord entered the room with a man taking position on either side of him. One was the big rough thug that had been in charge at the first place they had been detained.

  “I was obviously wrong when I thought his father would give in right away,” Falk was saying to the big guy. “It’s been long enough. He is either playing a game with us, and has someone out looking hoping to come across information that will lead to his son, or he has written him off. You’ve told me your ears have picked up some indications someone is looking for them. That’s it then. Time to finish them off and get rid of anything that can point back to us.”

  “The mage first?” the big guy said.

  “Probably best. That will relieve Dupree who has been complaining. Take him this morning, and come back for the other one later today. Dump them the usual place.”

  This was it then, Jolan realized. He would be dead before the morning was out. It would probably happen within a few minutes. It would make sense for them to kill him while he was helpless here in the cell. He thought it had happened that way before from stains on the rock floor. He’d discovered them the first day and had suspected that the stains might have been the blood of a previous occupant.

  The three men walked over to the middle of the room where the guard waited by the desk where he’d been sitting when Falk and the others had come in. Dupree must have heard them as well, as he walked out from the small hallway at the far end, and started walking towards the group. Jolan was watching them intently, a tickle of fear starting to build when he saw that Dupree was about to say something. Then Jolan’s eyes shifted to the stairway.

  Unbelievably Asari and another man had slipped quietly into the room behind Falk. Asari had the Colt out, holding it in both hands out in front of him. Jolan could see that the hammer was back, and the gun was ready to fire. The other man was considerably older than Asari and very competent looking. He held a sword with a three-foot blade at the ready. Unlike the sword Jolan had some time back, this one looked like something a professional would have, the blade looking sharp and polished. The man obviously was comfortable with the weapon, and moved slightly away from Asari so the two weren’t bunched up.

  “Falk!” Dupree managed to utter, his hand coming up and pointing.

  The big thug reacted first, spinning around and realizing the threat behind them. He had his own sword halfway drawn when Asari cut loose. He was less than five feet from the man as he turned, and for the third time in his life, Asari fired the large pistol. In the small room, the boom was impressive, slapping at the ears as the gun fired, the heavy slug taking the man in the center of the face, breaking the skull on the way out with an impressive spatter of brains and blood.

  “The chest, Asari, the chest,” Jolan thought.

  The blast made everyone flinch, but Dupree was quick to recover.

  “Oh boy, you don’t know what a mistake you have made,” he said, his piggy eyes on Asari as he started to move in Asari’s direction. Jolan wanted to shout out a warning, for he doubted Asari could know he was facing a homegrown wizard, who was probably already working on calling up something unpleasant.

  Asari was quicker, and before Jolan could utter a sound, his friend had reacted to the voice and turned slightly, the pistol quickly pointing at Dupree. Asari fired a second time, again using the head as his point of aim, but this time his target was considerably further away and predictably the shot missed. Dupree winced as the bullet passed within a inch or two of his ear. Recovering quickly, Asari lowered the point of aim, and fired yet a third time, this time aiming at the chest of the angry Dupree.

  Knowing he was shielded and in no danger, Dupree was suddenly surprised by a heavy hammer blow to his chest as the pistol bullet passed unaffected through his protective barriers. He looked down in surprise, and then started to fall as his heart, shattered by the copper jacketed slug, ceased to function. He managed to look at Asari briefly, complete surprise on his face, his lips trying to form a word but failing as he died.

  As Dupree crumpled, Asari swiveled and pointed the Colt at Falk, who, frozen by the repeated thundering blasts, was still standing in place with his mouth open. Seeing the pistol pointed in his direction he froze. He didn’t know what it was the boy held, but he’d just seen it take down his pet wizard, and wasn’t about to challenge it himself.

  Jolan had time to reflect that maybe Asari’s finishing off the batteries of the iPhone while watching Die Hard hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

  While this was happening, Steph had quickly dispatched the second man with Falk before he could even complete his turn, the sword going in under the arm and into the chest. He pulled it free, and stepped forward to engage the guard from the desk while Asari was taking care of Dupree. This was also a short battle, the guard somewhat sleepy from almost three hours of boring duty and not fully awake as he charged. Steph swept aside the man’s hasty thrust with barely a thought, and before the man could recover, Steph’s sword found its mark, finishing him.

  Asari was covering Falk and Steph was making sure of the dead when two more men suddenly came charging around the far corner, swords drawn. Before either could react, a sudden bright flash erupted from Jolan’s cell blasting the cell door loose from it’s supports and flinging it across the room, sweeping through the two charging men and carrying their remains to the far wall with the door that embedded itself into the stone from the force of the blast. Jolan walked unsteadily out of the room and over toward Asari with a weak smile. When he reached the desk he stopped, and supported himself by resting his left hand on the surface.

  “That was quite an entrance,” he said wryly.

  “What in Dragon’s name is that thing?” Steph asked indicating the pistol Asari continued to point at Falk.

  “A Mage’s Weapon,” he answered. “Jolan taught me how to use it.”

  “Scared the piss out of me the first time you used it,” Steph observed honestly. “Damn hard on the ears. Mine still feel like someone stuffed a bell inside.”

  While Asari watched Falk, Steph made a quick check of the rest of the room to be sure no more men were hiding around the corner. When he returned he took control of Falk only to hear a voice from across the room.

  “Don’t kill him,” Tomas said weakly. The altercation had broken through his fevered sleep. “I want my father to have the chance to burn him.”

  Falk paled visibly. “They don’t do that any more,” he objected.

  “My dad will make sure there’s an exception for you.” Tomas’ reddish, watery eyes looked out at them. Please, try not to kill him. If he gives you trouble feel free to break or cut off any parts you want.” Then he slid heavily back down to the floor.

  Jolan explained where Falk had put the keys to the cells, and while Asari went to recover them, he walked unsteadily back over to where Dupree lay on the floor. Slowly he bent down and yanked his ring off the finger of the dead man. He wiped it briefly on his dirty shirt, then slipped it back on his own finger, reassured to see the warm glow in the base of the blue stone return.

  Asari returned with the key and a heavy bag of coins that he handed to Jolan.

  “I missed once, and I don’t think we’ll be able to find the projectiles I used,” he said uncertainly. “It looks like they went all the way through them.” Asari showed Jolan the three spent cases he had recovered from the floor of the dungeon.

  Jolan smiled. “The gun wasn’t designed with recovery of the fired bullets as a requirement. You did good; more than good. I consider being saved well worth the loss of a few cuprum pellets.”

  Steph pulled Tomas upright and
slung him over his left shoulder, and then picked up his sword again with his right hand. He looked like he could fight unhindered while carrying the unconscious Tomas. “There’s still the two outside. I doubt they could have heard any of the noise from down here, so we should be able to sneak back down that little road outside the back way unseen. If they give us any trouble, he’s our ticket. He doesn’t call ‘em off, use that thing on him first.”

  They were lucky this time, and they slipped past the watcher outside unobserved. Once off the property, Steph located a carriage and driver, allowing all of them to ride inside with their horses tied to the back to follow along.

  “We need to get him home first,” Jolan observed. He’s in a bad way, and that infection’s gonna kill him if they don’t get him help soon. It may be too late already. Since they don’t have antibiotics, he’s going to need a mage specialist. Is Altz back?”

  Jolan fell asleep on the ride back, his weakened condition taxed severely by the recent escape, and slept through Tomas’ return home. When they arrived at Lord Yeren’s estate, Steph had a bit of trouble with his security forces. Each Lord appeared to have his own security team, and it took a bit of explaining to make his father’s men understand that they had a very sick Tomas in the carriage with them. Once he succeeded, he urged the security to bring a number of additional men so they could take charge of the kidnapper. Once this was understood, the captain of the guard gave Asari a hostile glare, nodded at Lord Hoalt, whom he recognized, and hurried off.

  Minutes later his father and several servants emerged from the house and carefully took the unconscious man from them.

  “How did you find him?” his father asked with a hoarse voice.

  Asari pointed to the sleeping Jolan. “They took my friend as well.”

  The Captain of the Guard was surprised to see Asari speaking, having tagged him as the kidnapper.