“Why do you want her? You said she was useless,” said Quince.
“I may have a use for her. Just bring her.”
“Tomorrow night is the dark of the moon. I think that is the time to strike,” said Quince. “Everyone be ready then.”
Chapter Twenty
Retaking Quince Castle
It was a little more than an hour before dawn. Prince Quince and his men, as well as Berlina, Felistia, and Lathan, stood in front of the wards in the carefully chosen spot. The prince gave the signal.
Berlina stepped up and felt with her wand for the joint between the magic force lines. Once she had a good spot, she said, “Terebro”, and the wand sank into the wards. When she felt her knuckles touch the wards, she uttered additional spells and started to move the wand around in a circle…a small circle at first, but increasing in size as she worked at it. Finally, she had an opening over six feet across. She stepped back out of the way, leaving the wand still in the opening but far to one side, and gestured to those waiting.
Everyone went through the opening, and Berlina went last. She pulled out a second wand, and then muttered a spell that let the opening close in until the spare wand was hanging in mid-air. “It marks where we came in, and makes it easier if we need to exit hurriedly in an emergency,” she told the prince.
The prince led everyone through a patch of trees and other cover to the back wall of the castle, halting in front of a discolored area where the old doorway was before being bricked up. He turned to Berlina and asked, “How far from the door must we stay to remain safe?”
“Fifteen or twenty feet will do. Most of the force of the blast will be directed inward.” When everyone was far enough back, she pointed her wand and said, “Portalis deleo.” There was a thunderous crash. A hole opened in the wall, large enough for four men to pass through side-by-side.
The soldiers poured in as quickly as they could and found themselves in a long corridor that ran off to the left and right. The corridor looked empty. Suddenly, someone—or something he couldn’t see—cut down one of the men on the right.
Berlina looked and cursed under her breath, “There’s that damned invisibility spell again.” She waved her wand and cast the dust and ashes spell to the right, then to the left. Now, the prince’s troops could see Drailsen’s men, even if only faintly, and they were able to start cutting them down. Soon, over half of Drailsen’s men were down, and only a few of Quince’s men were injured.
The sorcerer appeared out of nowhere. He pointed his wand at one of Quince’s men, and said “Af-dauthjan.” There was a flash of violet light and the man dropped dead. He repeated this and a second man died.
Berlina saw this and quickly cast a shield spell. The third flash of violet light dissipated in the air without causing any harm. She pointed her wand at the sorcerer and said, “Af-dauthjan,” but it did nothing but bounce off his shield spell. For the next several minutes, Berlina and the sorcerer stood there throwing spells at each other. Berlina’s spells were proving more effective, but not enough to give her a quick victory. Finally, she muttered to herself, “There must be some way to deal with this meadow muffin.” She flipped her wand from her right hand to her left, drew her sword, and stepped forward toward the sorcerer. The sorcerer’s shield spell, designed only to protect from magic, did nothing to impede her physical progress, and she thrust her blade right through the sorcerer’s heart. He sank to the ground, fountaining blood from his chest. As his life ebbed, Berlina suddenly realized she could feel the wards around the castle starting to collapse. She waved her wand, casting a warding spell, and was able to take over the wards, restoring them to full effectiveness but now under her control. Just in case we need them when Drailsen arrives, she thought.
While this magical—and non-magical—battle was going on, Quince’s troops decimated the defenders. When there was no more opposition, Quince said, “How many have we taken out? How many more are there left somewhere in the castle?”
The captain of the troops said, “Your Highness, we count eighteen bodies. If the original count was twenty, as we think, there must be two left somewhere. It would be my guess that they are down in the dungeon, guarding the prisoner. I sent two men down there to check.”
“Yes, very likely,” said Quince. “Send squads to make sure the rest of the castle is secure. I will go down to the dungeons with a few men. Berlina, I think you ought to come along, since we may find your brother down there.”
“Yes, and I want Clotilde along on this, too.”
Clotilde looked at Berlina and Quince before asking, “What am I doing here? I don’t understand.”
Berlina replied, “You are here because your prince bade you be here. Is that not enough?”
Clotilde looked very flustered but nodded her head.
As the group approached the dungeon cell holding the prisoner, one of the ones sent down earlier came back to report. “Your Highness, there are two men in Drailsen’s colors. They have locked themselves in the cell with the prisoner, and when they saw us, they threatened to kill him if we didn’t let the three of them get out and go free. It sounded like they meant it.”
Quince brought all of them to a halt, then turned to Berlina and said, “What can we do about this? If it is your brother, we don’t want him killed, but we also don’t want him taken off somewhere else.”
Berlina thought for a moment. “Let me check and see if it is really him. A magic mirror will let me look around the corner and see them without being seen.” She waved her wand, and a misty patch formed in the air, then floated down the corridor until it was in front of the cell. She looked carefully, then said, “Yes, that is Darvid. Everybody stay back. We don’t want to panic them into carrying out their death threat.”
Everyone stayed in place while Berlina moved slowly and carefully up to the corner, still keeping an eye on the magic mirror. Finally reaching the corner, she let just the tip of her wand poke out, and muttered a spell…twice.
There were two flashes of green light that bounced off the mirror and struck Drailsen’s two soldiers. They instantly collapsed to the floor, unconscious. “There,” she said, “I bounced stunning spells off the mirror, so they couldn’t see me casting them. Let’s go.”
Berlina, Quince, and the others rushed to the cell door, but it remained locked. “They must have locked it from inside,” said Quince. “Darvid—you are Darvid, are you not?—search them. See if one of them has the keys.”
Darvid checked the two and quickly found the keys, which he tossed out between the bars. Quince unlocked the cell and let Darvid out, while several of his men went in to take Drailsen’s men captive. As Darvid exited the cell, Berlina went over and hugged him. “Darvid, my brother. I am so glad to see you. We were all so worried when you were kidnapped.”
Darvid looked at her in surprise. “Berlina? What are you doing here?”
“I came to rescue you, silly. What else do you think I would be here for?”
“But, but…I thought if I was ever going to be rescued, it would be by a large army, not my baby sister. Are you alone?”
“Of course not. I came with my faithful companion Felistia, and Lathan…you remember Lathan, don’t you? Then, when we got here, we made an alliance with Prince Quince. They took his castle to use as your prison, and he wanted it back, so we agreed to work together.”
Darvid stood there shaking his head. “I don’t believe it. I don’t see how Mother would let you go out on something like this. I know her. With me gone, she’d want to lock you up somewhere safe.”
“Oh…well, yes. She tried that. Didn’t work. Felistia and I broke out, got Lathan to join us, and came looking for you. Mother is probably dithering around right now, not sure what to do. It doesn’t help that Court Sorcerer Zatarra, that misbegotten son of a wombat, is secretly aiding Prince Drailsen—the one who wants to usurp the throne. Nope, I just decided that the best thing to do was for me to come and rescue you, so that’s what I did.”
�
�I don’t understand any of this,” said Darvid. “What were those flashes of green light I saw just before my captors passed out?”
Before anyone else could answer, Berlina said, “Those were stun spells cast by Madam Clotilde, the village witch.” She waved a hand toward her. “She has been very helpful.”
A few minutes later, Quince drew Berlina over to a private corner and said, “I saw you cast those stun spells. What is this about Clotilde doing it?”
“Darvid does not know I am a witch. If he found out, he would probably tell our mother, the Queen Regent. Then, the cats would be in the chowder. She would cause a ruckus like you have never seen. That’s why I brought along another witch. She can’t do much, but she can take all the credit—or blame—for spells I cast.”
Quince laughed. “You are the sneaky one, aren’t you?”
Eventually, after a few hours, the castle was secure, and the prince sent word to those who normally resided there to return. When everything was ready, Berlina allowed the opening she had made in the wards to close. “We don’t need that opening, anymore,” she told Quince. “Now that I control the wards, I can open a portal anywhere, anywhen we need one. For the meantime, I prefer to keep things closed, since I expect Drailsen, Zatarra, and an unknown number of troops to arrive soon.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Stand and Deliver, Drailsen
Berlina and Quince sat in comfortable chairs in the latter’s study and watched Darvid pace the floor. Darvid was ranting. “I don’t see why we can’t get going. We need to get home, so Mother knows I am ready for my twenty-first birthday and my coronation. Why do you people insist on dawdling?”
“Because, my brother,” said Berlina, “if we were to do that, we would be unlikely to make it home. Prince Drailsen is only a day or two away. He has that scum-sucking traitor Zatarra with him, and an unknown number of troops. The last count we had was fifteen or twenty, and I’m sure he picked up the survivors from that camp down the road. A small contingent—you, me, Felistia, Lathan—would be wiped out in a trice.”
“Couldn’t we borrow troops from Quince?”
“No, you can’t borrow troops from me,” said Quince. “I’m not splitting my forces like that. I’m already down by a large number from their treacherous attack earlier. We’re going to follow Berlina’s plan and wipe them out here. Then, you go home.” He turned and asked, “Berlina, do you have any better idea when they will arrive?”
“Tomorrow, maybe the next day. No later. I expect them to come marching up the road, assuming everything is okay. That’s why we left the banners and pennons in Drailsen’s colors flying from the battlements. That’s why I had Madam Clotilde put the wards back up. That’s what they will expect to find.” She winked at Quince when she said this, her head carefully turned so Darvid couldn’t see. “Also, it’s why I had the dead sorcerer’s robes laundered…someone will stand right where they expect the entrance to be, wearing those robes. All will look normal to them.”
“Then?” asked Quince.
“Then, the supposed sorcerer will have trouble. He will be unable to open a gate through the wards. No wonder, since he will be no sorcerer at all, just a trooper in robes. This will cause confusion, and our troops will come out from behind the castle on both sides and attack Drailsen and his men in a pincer movement.”
“Yes,” said Darvid, still pacing, “but why do you say I can’t participate in the attack?”
“Because your life is too valuable. We must make sure you remain alive and able for the coronation, Brother,” said Berlina. “The future of Jylyria depends on you.”
“All right, all right,” said Darvid as he flung himself into a chair. “Somehow, avoiding the battle sounds cowardly, but I see your point. My duty, my destiny lies on the throne and not on the battlefield.”
Berlina gave a little sigh of relief.
* * * *
It was close to noon the next day when Drailsen’s company came into view. They were marching down the road as if they owned it, taking no precautions at all. As they approached the spot where they expected to have a gate opened for them, a herald at the front of the company blew a blast on a trumpet and called out, “All make way for His Highness, Prince Drailsen.”
The fake sorcerer just inside the wards waved a stick around, made mysterious gestures, and then signaled to the men to enter. However, when those in front reached the wards, they were unable to pass through and were forced to stop. Those behind them continued forward until all of them got jumbled up, any traces of formation lost. There was much yelling and complaining.
Suddenly, two companies of Quince’s men appeared on either side of the castle and moved in on Drailsen’s men, hacking and slicing. Leading one of the companies was Lathan, and he decapitated half a dozen of Drailsen’s men before they even realized they were under attack. Those on the outside of the jumble fought back, but those squeezed into the middle were helpless to assist.
Berlina, disguised with a glamour that made her appear to be merely one of Quince’s warriors, rode around the outside of the melee and into the road. There, she faced a number of Drailsen’s men who realized they were in trouble and were trying to escape back down the road, away from the castle. Waving her wand, she called out, “Af-dauthjan. Af-dauthjan. Af-dauthjan.” With each utterance of the spell there was a flash of violet light and a soldier fell dead from his horse and landed on the ground, often to be trampled by those still alive.
Between Quince’s men attacking from both sides, and Berlina’s death spells, it was not long before most of Drailsen’s force was gone. All that remained were Drailsen himself, the sorcerer Zatarra, and one soldier who had so far miraculously escaped death.
A trumpet blast came from Quince’s troops, and Prince Quince himself rode up. “Surrender or perish, Drailsen,” he called.
Drailsen dropped his sword and raised his hands, as did the lone remaining soldier, but Zatarra called out, “Fool, we will never surrender.” He waved a wand, and suddenly, there was a wall of wards around the three of them. “You cannot do anything to us while I have the magic power to protect us. We took your castle once, we took the Crown Prince as a prisoner, and we will repeat those victories.”
Quince looked at him scornfully. “You think so, traitorous sorcerer? Betrayer of your Queen Regent, you deserve nothing but the worst of fates.” He looked around and spotted the one of his soldiers wearing a blue scarf. It was Berlina, glamoured as a soldier, but with the scarf to identify her. He beckoned, and she rode over next to him. In a low voice, he said to her, “What do you want to do about this?”
Berlina answered back, also keeping her voice low, “I want to kill Zatarra. After that, Drailsen is your prisoner. Do with him as you see fit.”
“Fine,” said Quince. “Zatarra is yours.”
Berlina turned and faced the sorcerer. In a disguised voice, she said, “Face your death, traitor. I grant you only one mercy, that you shall die a clean death rather than suffer torture.” She started riding toward him, the glamour hiding the fact that she was using her wand.
Zatarra was laughing, expecting that his wards would stop a common soldier. His laughter changed to shock as Berlina and her horse rode right through the barrier. “No!” he cried. “This cannot be! Go back, devil, spawn of the underwo—” His voice stopped abruptly as Berlina’s sword skewered his heart, and he dropped to the ground, spurting blood.
Berlina sheathed her sword and rode off toward the back of the castle, waving to Quince as she went. Taking that as a signal, Quince motioned to several of his men who took Drailsen and his last soldier prisoner and led them off toward the dungeons.
* * * *
Quince, Berlina, Darvid, Felistia, and Lathan gathered in Quince’s study. Darvid was protesting loudly, “I was watching the battle from one of the towers, and I don’t understand what happened. The fight was going our way. We would have won eventually, but then that lone horseman…who was he? What did he do?”
“I
promise you,” said Quince, “that whoever it was, it was not a man in my service.”
Berlina had her hands over her mouth, trying not to laugh at Quince’s statement.
“In fact,” Quince continued, “it may have been some sort of phantom, conjured up by the witch, Madam Clotilde. I believe she was watching, casting death spells at Drailsen’s men. The way that figure went through Zatarra’s wards, one could hardly believe it was a man at all. I think Clotilde’s magic played a decisive part in our victory.”
“It doesn’t matter much, does it?” asked Berlina. “Zatarra is dead, Drailsen is captive, and you, Darvid, are free. Free to go home for your coronation. As soon as we take care of one little errand first…”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Black Fortress
“I don’t understand this, Berlina. Why can’t we go directly home?” asked Darvid. “Why do we have to go to this Black Fortress?”
“If you can’t see it any other way, look on it as a favor to our late father. When Lathan became injured in battle, Father insisted on keeping him on as a palace guard. Father’s will required that Lathan be kept on even after his death. From some rumors I have heard, those in the Black Fortress might be able to cure Lathan, to restore him to what he was before that battle.”
“Where did you hear such ridiculous rumors?”
“From Madam Clotilde, the village witch. She has numerous contacts in the magical community and has heard of similar cases where the Ultimate Wizards have performed near-miracles.”
“Oh…well, all right. That’s different,” said Darvid. “I hate to waste the time, though. We need to get home before my birthday.”
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