“Not with your horse, Lord Salva,” she explained. “I meant the horse you keep on your farm? That horse ran away.”
Paedris jumped up from the chair, knocking the teacup onto the floor and breaking it. “Thunderbolt ran away?” He asked with great alarm.
“Oh, sir,” Olivia rushed over to pick up the broken tea cup. “I’ll clean it up,” she said, but the wizard grasped her shoulders.
“Thunderbolt ran away? When? How do you know this?”
Olivia had not known the horse’s name. “If Thunderbolt is the horse you keep on your farm, sir, he ran away. It was in the letter from the couple who work the farm for you.”
“Letter?” Paedris mentally kicked himself. He had only glanced at the top of that letter’s first page; it had been something about how many acres had been planted, and the Spring rainfall being either good or bad, he couldn’t remember. “You have this letter? Show it to me,” he demanded.
Olivia’s eyes welled up with tears. “Oh, sir, no, I don’t have it. You told me to burn all those letters.”
“Ah!” Paedris slapped his forehead. “I did! Olivia, don’t cry, this is not your fault. Not your fault at all.” He steered the young wizard trainee to his battered chair and sat her down. “Tell me, what did the letter say about Thunderbolt? Tell me everything you remember.”
“It said,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture the letter in her mind. Real wizards could do that to recall memories; Olivia had not yet been taught how to do that. “I only glanced at the letter as it went into the fire, I didn’t truly read it. I think all it said was that the horse jumped the fence and ran away, and the couple who manage your farm haven’t seen it since. Oh!” She remembered something else. “They said they wanted to offer a reward for anyone who brings the horse back and they wanted your approval?” She shook her head. “That’s all I remember.”
“Nothing about what day it was, anything unusual that happened around the farm around that time?” Paedris pressed.
“No. It was only a short paragraph?” She answered uncertainly. “Most of the letter was about growing wheat, and something about clearing a woodlot?”
“Mmm, yes,” Paedris groaned. The little he remembered from his own quick glance at the letter had been dry details about seeds and crops yields, and that is why he had set the letter aside. Why had the writers of the letter not put Thunderbolt’s escape on top of the first page?! It was maddening. “Olivia, this is not your fault in any way. I should have tended to that letter when it arrived, instead of,” he looked guiltily at the half-eaten berry tart. “Taking afternoon tea. The letter!” He gasped. “When did it arrive?”
“I don’t know,” Olivia answered honestly. When had she first noticed it? Paedris had received a bundle of letters from the royal post the day before, but that bundle was still sitting, tied with string and untouched on the desk by the door. The last bundle of letters before that had arrived more than a week previous, and Olivia didn’t remember seeing that particular letter in that batch. She did not remember when she had first seen it, the court wizard received so many letters. “I don’t sort your letters, sir,” she pointed to the bundle by the door. “I just bring them in for you.”
Paedris said a very bad word, then the court wizard blushed and apologized for cursing in front of a young lady. He walked across the room and pointed to the table beside his battered old chair. “That letter was here?” On the table that now held his tea set. When had he last looked through his correspondence? Really looked through it, and not only pushed he piles around various desks and tables? He had no idea. He did remember carrying a pile of letters to the table by the chair, but that had only been to make room on his workbench. That letter could have arrived weeks ago! And considering the typically slow delivery of the royal post, it could have been sent from his farm a full month before!
“It was in the big,” she almost said ‘mess’, “collection of letters there, yes.” Anticipating the wizard’s next question, she added “Those letters were on your workbench until yesterday. You told me not to touch anything on your workbench, Sir.”
“Oh, yes. Quite right,” he looked in dismay at the cluttered workbench. He had spent many days recently studying ancient books of magic, looking for any hint of a way that he could locate Koren Bladewell. And he had missed a vital clue that had, at one point, been quite literally right in front of his nose! Striding over to the workbench, he swept books onto the floor, took out a fresh sheet of paper, and quickly scrawled out a message. While the ink dried, he held up the paper. “Olivia, can you read that?” Paedris knew his handwriting was often terrible; he had made a painstaking effort to be legible with this crucial message.
Olivia peered at the letter. “Yes, sir.” She recognized the format of the message, the way it was addressed. “You wish this to be sent over the telegraph?”
“Yes, immediately. It is extremely urgent. Please go, now.”
Lord Salva’s words were not necessary; the terribly anxious expression on his face gave Olivia haste. She tucked the message into a pouch and ran out the door, down the stairs and across the courtyard. At the entrance to the palace, she pulled out the badge Paedris had given her and showed it to the guards there. “Official wizard business,” she said, out of breath. The guards knew she was a wizard in her own right, and pulled the doors open for her. Inside the palace, she ran, her shoes slapping on the polished floor, ignoring the stares of palace officials.
Out the other door, she had only used the corridors of the royal palace as a shortcut to running all the way around the courtyard, she ran across the uneven cobblestones to the telegraph tower that was built into the northeast wall of the castle. “Lord Salva has a message to send,” she explained to the guard at the door, and the man stepped aside. By now, everyone around the castle knew the court wizard’s newest servant, and knew that she was also a wizard.
Getting into the telegraph station was easier than getting the message sent out. The captain in charge of the telegraph was already overwhelmed by a stack of messages to be sent, and urging his staff to decode incoming messages quickly. With the enemy across Tarador’s border, the Royal Army was constantly sending messages back and forth to the capital. “Yes, we will get to this message in due time,” the captain snapped in irritation. “The wizard will have to wait his turn, young lady. There are many high-priority messages ahead of him,” he pointed to the stack on his desk. “Come back,” he glanced out the window at the position of the sun to judge the time, “late this afternoon, and I will see what I can do.”
“Of course,” she said, ignoring the man. With the fingers of her left hand, she performed the trick of pulling the flickering magical flame above her right palm, until a small fireball spun there. “I was told, by the most powerful wizard in the land, that this message is extremely urgent. But, I shall inform Lord Salva that the royal telegraph service has better things to do. What shall I say your name is, sir?”
The man’s face changed from angry red to the color of newly-fallen snow, and his lips moved without sound. He spun and stumbled out the door, bashing a knee on the door frame and taking the stairs two or three at a time. The man shouted at his underlings, and they shouted at theirs, and Olivia heard the shouts echoing through the tower up to the platform at the top.
The message that was in process of being sent was halted, the flag arms reset to indicate a new message would be coming, and that the message had the highest of priorities. The first part of the message was the code key for deciphering it, then the symbol for the telegraph station for which the message was intended, then the body of the message itself. From one tower to another, relayed from one hilltop to another, the message flew across Tarador, until it arrived at the telegraph station closest to Lord Salva’s farm. Which was, in truth, not very close at all. The telegraph operator there was startled when she read the decoded message, not understanding how a runaway horse could rate the highest signal priority. Then she read the last part of the message; word
s that had been added by the chief telegraph agent in Linden. The chief telegraph agent there was a captain in the Royal Army. The last part of the message read Take all measures to answer Lord Salva’s questions, and reply without the loss of a moment.
Without the loss of a moment. Every soldier in the Royal Army knew what that meant. More shouting followed that message being read, and within mere minutes, two Royal Army soldiers were on horseback, racing across the countryside as fast as their steeds could carry them. When they reached the first village, their horses lathered with sweat and unsteady on their legs, the soldiers rode to the only inn, where several horses were tied up outside. One of the soldiers hurriedly took the army saddles and bridles off their horses and, selecting the two other horses that looked fastest, saddled them. The other soldier went into the inn, showed her Royal Army badge, and announced that they would be temporarily requisitioning new horses, and that the owners would be compensated by the crown and the horses would be returned as soon as possible. It was not necessary for her to draw her sword, nor even for her to place her hand meaningfully on the pommel of her sword; the grim expression on her face told the villages that she and her companion would be taking horses one way or another. On her way out, she tossed coins to the innkeeper, with instructions that the exhausted army horses should be cared for.
The process was repeated at the next village, but the third place they stopped was a town with a Royal Army garrison, so they were able to borrow well-tended army horses, with a promise of fresh horses on their way back.
The same two soldiers came back through to the garrison in the early hours of the next morning, dead tired and on horses that could not manage more than a slow trot. Although the two soldiers wanted to change horses and press on back to the telegraph station, the garrison commander ordered them to rest, and sent two fresh soldiers on fresh horses to carry the message onward. The exhausted soldiers collapsed into bunks immediately, too tired to eat anything at all. Laying in their bunks, they expected to fall asleep immediately, but slumber was elusive as their minds raced. When they had arrived the farm, they had been panicked to find the farmhouse and barn empty, and the wagon also gone! Panicked, the soldiers considered that the couple who managed the farm could be anywhere, and all of their effort to race across the countryside could have been for nothing. Then the soldiers went into the house and found a pot of stew bubbling gently on the stove. The farmers could not be far, so the soldiers swung back on their horses and rode down the lane in that separated the farm fields in half. Quickly, they found the elderly couple in the farm’s woodlot, loading firewood into their wagon. Once the old man and woman recovered from the shock of seeing a pair of Royal Army soldiers racing across the wheat field toward them, they had answered the wizard’s questions as best they could. Then, without pausing for stew even though their stomachs were growling with hunger, the soldiers turned and raced back the way they had come, satisfying their hunger with the hard biscuits and dried meat in their saddlebags. Laying in bunks at the garrison station, unable to sleep yet, they asked themselves once again, what could possibly be so important about a runaway horse?
Paedris and Olivia were sitting in the wizard’s study after breakfast, across from each other at a small table. Lord Salva was quizzing the apprentice wizard about the proper use of herbs for spells when there was shouting in the courtyard, a furious knocking on the door, and booted feet pounding on the stairs. A breathless telegraph courier handed a leather pouch to Paedris, gesturing for the wizard to read it. “Your, reply, Lor-, Lord Salva,” the man gasped.
“Oh, thank you,” the wizard replied casually, his mind still on herbs and spells. Opening the pouch, he read the brief message. Thunderbolt had run away in the morning, eleven days ago. The wind had been from the north-northeast that morning. Nothing unusual happened around the farm that morning or in the days prior, nor had anything unusual happened in the entire village. Thunderbolt had been his typical energetic self, until the horse had stuck his head up into the breeze that morning, sniffing intently. Then the horse had run straight across the corral, jumped the fence and disappeared toward the north-northeast.
Such dry words, Paedris thought, for such a momentous message. “Olivia, excuse me, I must speak with Shomas and Cecil,” the wizard said, closing the spell book on the table. “Hmm?” he said, startled, as his servant kicked him under the table.
Olivia looked toward the telegraph courier, then back at Paedris, then the courier.
“Oh,” Paedris said as he understood her meaning. Standing up, the wizard clapped a hand on the courier’s shoulder. “Please convey to your fellows, and everyone involved, my sincere thanks. And my admiration. I did not expect a rely until tomorrow at the earliest! I do not know how it was managed to bring a reply to me so soon, but I can imagine the effort it must have taken. Rest assured,” he waved the message in the air, “as frivolous as this message may seem, it is vital. Vital! In fact,” he murmured almost to himself, “it would be best if everyone who read the decoded message forgot what they saw, eh?”
“Yes, Lord Salva,” the man nodded vigorously. “I shall inform my captain.”
“Good man, good man,” Paedris said as he steered the man toward the door. The court wizard needed to speak with a fellow wizard, and there was not a moment to lose.
Shomas read the message again. He was still skeptical. “Certainly you know more about this than I do, Paedris, but how can you be sure this horse didn’t just catch the scent of a female horse? Or a wolf? There are many reasons why,” he checked the message again for the horse’s name, “Thunderbolt might have jumped the fence.” Shomas Feany was concerned about the strain Paedris was under; the powerful wizard hardly slept these days. His every waking moment was a concentrated effort to counter moves of the enemy.
“Shomas is correct,” Lord Mwazo observed. “However, you do know this animal better than we do.”
“It is more than a horse jumping a fence. It is this horse,” Paedris responded vehemently. “Thunderbolt was Koren’s horse, those two are tied to each other. When Koren left, Thunderbolt was frantic; if the walls of the royal stable corral were not so high, that horse might have jumped them back then. Looking back, I should have released Thunderbolt, and followed him if I could. Thunderbolt was brought to my farm in part because he was driving the royal stable master half mad. And in part because I was afraid Thunderbolt would injure himself if we kept him here. But mostly, I wanted Thunderbolt away from any sight or scent that would remind him of Koren. So, yes, I believe that the actions that morning; of Thunderbolt suddenly catching scent of something and running off, are significant. Particularly in light of, something else,” Paedris struggled for words. “Cecil, I have had a, a feeling, for the past fortnight. I have dreamt several times of Koren, dreamt that he is nearby, and in my dream I reach for him, but he slips away. It is as if he is always just beyond my reach.” Paedris avoided the eyes of his fellow wizards, embarrassed by talking about his feelings, of all things. “But he is close now. Closer than he has been.”
Mwazo slapped the table in exasperation. “Paedris! You fool! How long have you had this feeling?”
“Uh,” Lord Salva was taken aback. “Around a fortnight, I suppose.” He searched his memory. When had he first had a dream about Koren? In that dream, the young man had keep walking along the edge of a cliff, seemingly unaware of the danger. Paedris had called to him, and reached out for him, but Koren had blithely walked right off the edge and plunged downward to his doom. “Yes, a fortnight.”
Mwazo shook his head, joined by Shomas. “Paedris,” Shomas sighed, “for a wise man, sometimes you act foolishly.”
“You are a powerful wizard,” Mwazo chided, “and you have experienced a compelling vision, yet you did not think to mention this to anyone? Paedris, you know better than that. Koren is tied to his horse, yes, he is also tied to you. You placed a blocking spell on him, you spent time working closely with him. He rescued you. You are tied together.”
> “I had not considered that,” Paedris said truthfully.
“I’m convinced, Cecil,” Shomas announced. “One of us should go after this horse. And it should be me. The two of you are too important here. No, no, don’t bother telling me how important I am, save your breath. Paedris, the Royal Army needs you. And you, Mwazo, are the only one of us who can see into the mind of our enemy.”
Mwazo almost blushed. “Not now I can’t. My powers-”
“Your powers are far greater than any other of us,” Shomas scoffed. “You may yet be able to glimpse inside that pit of evil,” he shuddered. “The two of you stay here and wrestle with our enemy; I will go find this horse. How hard could that be for a wizard?” He laughed nervously.
“You should not go alone,” Paedris said with relief. He had wanted Shomas to be the one to go after Thunderbolt, to find Koren, and Paedris had anticipated a long argument with Lord Feany. Without an argument, the court wizard had to mentally shift gears.
“Alone! Ha!” Shomas laughed. “I am certainly not going to carry all my provisions by myself. No, I will require at least a royal baggage train with me.” Turning serious, he added “Paedris, the wind came from the north. If Koren is not within our borders, he could be with the dwarves. Or in orc strongholds. I will need soldiers with me.”
“A small group,” Cecil advised. “To move swiftly and unnoticed.”
“That would be best.” Shomas now looked distinctly unhappy, contemplating a long and possibly treacherous journey. “Paedris, if I do find Koren Bladewell, I am going to tell him the truth. Deception has led us to nothing but disaster.”
“Agreed. We had our reasons,” Paedris admitted. “I had my reasons,” he added, taking full responsibility. It had been his decision initially to hide the truth from Koren. At the time, it was, Paedris was still convinced, the right decision. Koren Bladewell was too inexperienced to control his unimaginable power. And too young to resist the temptation to use his power anyway. Now, Paedris was willing to reveal the truth to Koren. “We should tell him the truth. All of it.”
Transcendent (Ascendant Book 2) Page 20
