Nomadin

by Cormier, Shawn P.

  She smiled. "But I did go hunting for teaberries again. That's when I found you, Ilien, and might I add, not faring so well for a wizard's apprentice."

  "How did you know I wasn't the wizard himself?" Ilien asked, put out by her dismissiveness.

  "Come now, young Ilien. Even I am not that blind."

  Thessien chuckled again and Ilien quieted him with a bewildered look.

  "But I was also not so blind as to overlook your courage and resourcefulness," she amended. "Left alone in the forest among wolves and wierwulvs, you still managed to find the bark of the Illwood and nearly make it back to the castle. How you accomplished all that is still a mystery to me."

  Ilien thought it best not to mention the talking dog. Not only would it sound unbelievable, but it might make him seem less courageous and resourceful, and he liked being thought of as courageous and resourceful, especially by a princess, even a princess as annoying as this one. "What's a mystery is how you drove off those wolves single-handedly," he said.

  The princess gave him a knowing look. "I'm a mage. My powers lie in my talismans. I used the Horn of Plenty to drive off the wolves."

  "Horn of Plenty?"

  "My, you're full of too many questions, aren't you?" She sighed and glanced over at Kysus, who all but ignored them and kept his vigil on the surrounding forest. "Yes, Horn of Plenty. A single blast sounds like the call of a hundred horns coming from every direction. It was more than enough to trick the wolves into thinking I was a small army. I have a collection of magical items. Would you like to see them?" Without waiting for an answer she called out to Kysus. "We're going now."

  The princess led them back into the castle through a small hidden door between two large rosebushes. The door had been carved to look like the side of the castle, faced with thin slabs of stone. Ilien would have missed it completely unless he'd known it was there all along. The princess touched a series of stones beside the door and it swung open with a groan. The afternoon sunlight fell into a large room beyond. They all filed in, Kysus bringing up the rear, and the door shut behind them sealing them in utter darkness.

  "This is one of the castle's storerooms," the princess called through the inky blackness. "Now where is that lightstone? Blast! I thought I had put it in my pocket."

  The air around them brightened as Ilien incanted his Light spell. Globe rested in the palm of his hand, growing larger at his bidding, its pale light throwing wavering shadows on the floor. Satisfied with its size, he tossed it in the air toward the princess where it bobbed up and down above her head, the shadows bobbing with it.

  The princess stared at the tiny light above her. "Thanks," she muttered. "I must have left my lightstone in my room." Without another word she led them toward a door at the far end of the store room.

  "Where do those go?" Ilien asked, noticing stairs leading downward into darkness.

  "To the castle's cellars," the princess answered with a wave of her hand. "They're mostly wine cellars, but we also have food stores below. It's not very nice down there, though, too damp and smelly if you ask me, smells like cheese, but we do have a fine collection of wines. My father is fond of the reds, but I like the pinks, they're much sweeter."

  "He lets you drink wine?" Ilien asked, still looking back at the darkened stairway.

  "I am the princess, Ilien. I drink what I like."

  Daylight streamed in to end the conversation as the princess pulled open the door leading out of the storeroom. They entered a cramped, circular room with a long, spiral staircase leading upwards in its center. Small windows had been cut into the stone walls, casting a patchwork of sunlight on the rising steps. Ilien extinguished Globe with a nod.

  "This is the back way to my room, near the top of the tower."

  Soon they were plodding up the tall, spiral staircase. Ilien looked to see if he could spot its top, but it continued up so high that the turning curves became a blur in the distance, so he turned his attention to what he could see through the many small windows. With every turn he rose higher above the world outside. The glowering sun hovered above the top of the forest in the distance and the gardens shrank below him, the stone wall at its border shrinking to a thin, grey line.

  "I like my privacy," the princess said as if explaining something to Ilien he did not understand. "I just wished it didn't take me twenty minutes to make it down to breakfast."

  She laughed, and so did Ilien, despite himself. Thessien and Kysus, though, were not amused. Ilien counted two hundred and fifty-eight steps, and that was just from the spot where he began counting, when they finally came to a landing and a small wooden door. The twisting stairs continued upward into shadow.

  "Isn't there an easier way to get to your room?" Ilien asked, still puffing from the climb.

  "Of course there is, silly. I usually go through the castle."

  "What's up there?" questioned Thessien, pointing up the darkened stairs.

  "Nothing yet, but soon there'll be an observatory. My father hasn't finished it, though. He keeps promising 'someday', but someday never seems to come around here." She produced a small, silver key and quickly unlocked the door.

  The room of the princess of Evernden surprised Ilien. He had expected it to be frilly and girlish, decorated with bright tapestries, furnished with a plump feather bed sprinkled with lacy pillows. But it was almost like his own room back home, which meant there was nothing special about it at all. From the small, hard bed to the bare walls to the cold, dusty floor, it made him feel right at home.

  The princess closed the door behind them and it disappeared, blending perfectly with the stone pattern of the wall. Another, more obvious door, stood closed on the opposite wall.

  "This is your room?" Ilien asked, checking out a corner where a number of books lay piled in a heap.

  "Yes. Why?" She turned up her chin. "You think it's unbefitting a princess?"

  "Of course it is," Ilien said. "I mean, it does seem a bit common," he stammered.

  The princess turned away in satisfaction. "Good."

  Thessien raised an eyebrow. Kysus shook his head and scowled.

  "Well here it is," the princess proclaimed as she struggled to pull something from under her bed. Ilien joined her in tugging until a large, flat trunk sprang free, sending both of them falling back on their bottoms.

  "My collection," beamed the princess as she stood and dusted herself off. The trunk was shut tight with a polished silver lock. "Now where is that key?" she muttered, fishing in her pockets. "I just had it."

  "Ouch!" Ilien jumped to his feet as something jabbed him painfully where he sat. On the floor beneath him gleamed the silver key, standing, oddly enough, on end.

  The princess bit her lip. "Sorry about that. It's a bit unruly, as magical keys go."

  "You should meet my pencil," Ilien mumbled, rubbing his sore bottom. The moment he said it, a tumble of muffled yells erupted from his back pocket.

  The princess raised an eyebrow, her collection forgotten for the moment. "What is that?"

  "It's nothing, I promise you," Ilien replied, clutching his back end.

  "Nothing!" the pencil shouted. "Well I never! All this time you keep me stuffed away in this suffocating little hole with god knows what else. What is this anyway? A leftover sandwich? How disgusting. It stinks in here!"

  Ilien snatched the pencil from his pocket, his face turning red. "There is no leftover sandwich in there and you know it. Now quit your loud-mouth antics and be nice." He held it before the princess like it was an unruly child. "Now say you're sorry."

  The pencil fell silent.

  "Come on," Ilien prodded. "You're being rude. Say you're sorry, or I swear I'll give you to Peaty when we get home. You know how he likes to stick pencils up his nose for attention."

  "Sorry," the pencil muttered.

  The princess stepped back. "Oh my!" she exclaimed. "Apology accepted." Her eyes sparkled with amazement. "It's incredible."

  "At least she appreciates me," the pencil replied. "You
—"

  Ilien jammed it back into his pocket. "I don't know why I keep you," he mumbled.

  "Because you don't know a right angle from a hypotenuse," came the muffled answer, and fading laughter.

  The princess retrieved the key and unlocked the chest, and with help from Ilien, swung open the heavy lid. She smiled, and with a flourish cried, "Ta dah!" revealing a number of quite ordinary looking items. A horseshoe, a brown feather, some small rocks and a bit of string, to name a few. Most of it looked like useless junk to Ilien.

  "My talismans," said the princess.

  Beneath an old leather boot lay Ilien's spellbook. "Ah ha!" he cried as he pulled it out. Someone had stuck a bookmark in it. He looked at the princess accusingly.

  "What?" she asked.

  He fingered the strange bookmark.

  "Don't look at me. It was there all along. I even left it right where I found it. I didn't want to lose your place."

  He opened the spellbook to the marked page. He had flipped this far ahead only once before, and was surprised to see writing this time. Pages this far ahead were usually blank, the consequence of a spell Gallund had cooked up after Ilien had nearly flooded the house with a Rain spell last summer. The Concealing spell must be broken, he thought. He looked at the writing on the page and an ache of sadness crept over him for the fallen wizard. He read the spell anyhow. "Truth Sear Em. When invoked, this spell will burn the hands of a liar until the truth is told."

  "Istru benot, isnot behot," he mumbled before he knew he had.

  "Ouch!" the princess shouted.

  Ilien looked up, wide eyed, apologetic.

  "Darn needle," she said and stuck her finger in her mouth. In her other hand she held a small sewing needle trailing green thread.

  "What does that do?" Ilien asked, relieved, assuming the needle was part of her magical collection.

  "Sews. What else?" She pinned it to her dress. "A lady always carries a needle and thread with her, just in case her dress tears in an embarrassing spot."

  Ilien closed the spellbook, but removed the bookmark. On it were the words, 'Princess with a capital P'. He tossed it to her without looking up.

  "Hey, I recognize this!" he said, pulling out a polished, silver cup.

  The princess snatched it out of his hands. "Be careful with that. It's a very valuable talisman." She polished it on her sleeve. "It turns water into a potent healing potion. It worked wonders on you." She turned it over in her hands, her enthusiasm suddenly waning. "Though I have to say, it didn't seem to help Thessien all that much." She tossed it back into the chest.

  Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Here it is!" she gushed, lifting out a small, round stone that immediately began to glow as she held it. "My lightstone! You see, it works just as well as your spell." She quickly slipped it in her pocket.

  "Ah ha!" she squealed, lunging back into the chest to pluck out the large, brown feather. "This is one of my most magical of talismans. I bought it from a lady in—get this—Anderbar. She's famous for her collection of talismans."

  Ilien raised an eyebrow, as if Anderbar meant anything to him.

  Thessien leaned over her shoulder. "It looks like an ordinary chicken feather."

  "Yes, but it's not ordinary at all. With it you can fly."

  "That is extra ordinary." Ilien half-expected the princess to begin hovering around the room. "Let's see it work."

  "Not right now," she said. "There's really not enough room in here. I'd just end up bumping into the ceiling." She glared at the chuckling Kysus and slipped the feather into her pocket along with the lightstone.

  "And this—" She reached in and pulled out what looked like a toy bugle made of tin. "This is what saved you." She turned it over in her hands. She put it to her lips and Ilien covered his ears. She laughed and tossed it onto her bed.

  "What about that horseshoe?" Ilien asked, looking back into the chest with renewed interest.

  "This?" She pulled it out from under the tangled mess. "This gives the horse who wears it unearthly speed and stamina."

  "But you only have one," Thessien said, hovering over Ilien to get a better look. "Don't you need four?"

  "Sadly, yes." She threw it back on top of the old boot.

  Ilien couldn't help but dig through the odd-ball assortment. "What's this?" he asked as he lifted up a painted wooden doll and baby bottle.

  "Oh. Those aren't magical." She grabbed the doll and baby bottle and quickly tucked them under her bed, her face flushing crimson.

  "Where did you get all these things?" Ilien asked.

  The princess surveyed her collection. "Some of them were gifts from other mages," she answered, nostalgically. "Some were given to me by my father, even though he doesn't believe they're magical at all. But most I bought abroad. Sadly, that's the only good things about being a princess. You get to travel quite a bit."

  Ilien looked skeptically at a few of the more doubtful items in the chest: a length of frayed rope, a worn slipper, a rusted knife, a bent candlestick. "But how do you know they're really magical? Have you tried them all?"

  "Of course I've tried them all. I'll admit not all of them contain practical magic, but now and then I find a really useful and powerful talisman, like the Horn or lightstone, or better yet my flying feather. I only wish—"

  Thessien sprang to the front door, his hand raised in warning. The princess left the sentence unfinished. There was a long moment of quiet before distant shouts could be heard outside. Kysus stepped forward, but before he reached the door it flew open and a man clad in chain mail rushed in, sword in hand, a small shield strapped to his forearm.

  "Your Highness, I've been sent by the king himself. There is a battle at the gates. Wolves and wierwulvs are assaulting the castle. You're to come with me at once."

  "Wolves and wierwulvs my arse!" Kysus raged, stepping into the hall and looking up and down the passageway. "Where is the king's guard? Where is the night watch?" He turned back and stood in the doorway. "Surely they can handle this disturbance."

  The armor-clad man held his sword at his side, his face hard and grim. "Sir, the night watch is dead. The king's guard have been repelled. We fear the castle has been breached. The princess is to come with me by order of the king."

  Ilien scooped up his spellbook. The princess began grabbing talismans from the chest but the man in armor stopped her. "There is no time."

  Thessien pushed past Kysus and the rest followed. Kysus brought up the rear, his eyes darting nervously to and fro. Once in the hallway the mail-clad man turned to the two men present.

  "Be prepared," he said. "There may be a Groll in the castle."

  Ilien didn't know what a Groll was, but Thessien's eyes hardened at its mention, and the Eastlander drew a long dagger from beneath his cloak.

  Kysus followed suit. "A Groll? What makes you say that?" The scar on his face reddened.

  The man answered without so much as a glance. "A wierwulf told me, thinking it would save his life."

  Ilien noticed then the crimson tinge to the man's blade.

  The man led them quickly through the bustling castle. They flashed by open doors where men hastened to don leather armor and longswords. They pushed their way through the crowded hall, shouldering past men headed the other way. The way toward battle, thought Ilien. Toward a sea of wolves and wierwulvs, of men with amber eyes and freshly sharpened swords. He shivered and quickened his pace to keep up.

  They continued on, making their way down a wide staircase of cut stone, along another hallway and through a set of double-doors. They pushed into a darkened ballroom, empty except for a few long tables pressed against the nearest wall. Long cloth curtains covered the windows, cloaking the room in shadows. The double-doors swung shut behind them and the room grew hushed, the only sound that of their padding feet echoing faintly around them. The heavy silence seemed ominous after the clamor of the hall. The armor-clad man continued on into the gloom, beckoning them to follow.

  The princess pulled the lightstone
from her pocket. It shined fiercely in her hand, casting its light ahead of them into the darkness. Ilien was about to strike up Globe, but thought better of it when he saw the look on the princess' face.

  "Wait!" Her voice hurried around the ballroom, seeming to come from all directions at once. "Where are you taking us? This way leads no where. There is no exit from the Grand Ballroom."

  Silence fell as everyone stopped. The shadows seemed to press in close, dimming the magic of the lightstone. Ilien looked around the room, trying in vain to see through the darkness. The silence was broken by a quiet snap—the sound of Thessien unfastening his sword from its scabbard. It was a simple message sent.

  The man's eyes narrowed as he turned his hot gaze on the Eastland prince, his hand white-knuckled around the pommel of his own sword. "You would be a fool to meddle in the king's affairs, Easterner. A Groll has infiltrated this castle and the king has bound me to protect his daughter with my life, but yours would do just fine."

  Thessien squared his shoulders to the man as Kysus moved slowly to get behind him.

  "You have not answered my question!" the princess shouted. "Where are you taking us?"

  "My Lady—" The king's soldier took a kinder tone. "Not all the king's passages are known, even to you. You must come with me. I have my orders."

  The princess raised a hand to stay Thessien's sword. "Which are?" she demanded.

  "Do you question the king?" the man asked.

  "I question my father when I may," the princess stated smoothly. "I'll go no further until you answer my question."

  The man fell silent, his eyes darting to Kysus, who seemed to be staring directly at Ilien.

  Ilien's heart jumped. The eyes of the red-haired warrior flashed amber in the soft glow of the lightstone! Ilien looked around at the others. Was it a trick of the light? Surely the king's soldier had noticed.

  "What is your name?" the princess asked.

  "I'm sorry, My Lady," the soldier replied, wresting his gaze from Kysus. "I mean no disrespect. If you will just follow me, you'll soon understand everything. Your father gave me explicit orders."