03- A Sip of Magic

by Guy Antibes

  They finished their hasty meal and continued on their way, passing traffic, mostly heading in the opposite direction.

  “Heard word of an army coming out of South Salvan?” Pol asked a family riding a full wagon.

  “Three against thousands?” the man asked. “Are you the full extent of King Colvin’s response to the invasion?”

  “Did you see the army?” Horker said.

  The man scoffed at him. “The whole point is not to see the army. I’ve a brother north of Borstall. We’ll wait there until this is all over, then we’ll return to my farm. There isn’t much to do until spring, anyway. I sold my livestock to a friend, who I suspect will be selling them at higher prices to King Astor’s men.”

  “Or they will just take them,” Horker said. The monk had told Pol that Onkar intended to live off the land and take what they wanted.

  “That’s his problem now, isn’t it? I’ll just buy new when this all boils over. The Emperor will fix this. You three leave a few of the soldiers for King Colvin, eh?” The man laughed as he pushed forward.

  Pol watched him leave. Another wagon filled with goods passed them going south. “They are looking to make money,” Pol said.

  Horker snorted. “Good luck with that.” He finished adjusting his tabard. “I suppose we could run into scouts at any time.” The monk looked out at a stretch of woods across the fields from the road.

  Pol followed his eyes and smiled. “Let’s ride cross-country. There are too many eyes on this road.” Pol led them, but just before they got to the edge of the forest, Shira pointed behind them. “Men are riding hard toward us!”

  “Seven of them wearing North Salvan livery,” Horker said. “Are we being betrayed?”

  Pol nodded. “I don’t know by whom. We stand a better chance in there.”

  He took off, leaving Horker and Shira to follow. Pol suspected that Horker might want to talk while whoever chased them approached. He slipped into the woods first and used his location skills to thread his way through the thick undergrowth. Horker rode close by, but Shira tried to cover their tracks.

  “I don’t think they will give up,” Horker said.

  Pol shook his head. “We don’t know anything.”

  He sighed with frustration. Horker was a poor substitute for Darrol, he admitted. Shira wasn’t a substitute for anyone, but he would rather have Val at his side, a futile wish.

  “Can we come up behind them?” Shira said.

  Pol put a fist on his hip, while letting his horse rest a bit. “I don’t know what their intentions are, but I don’t want to take a chance. We could easily have enemies in Borstall that we don’t know about. King Astor has had plenty of time for subversion.”

  “We can’t fight seven soldiers,” Horker said. He looked at Pol’s face and spoke again. “Yes, we can and have.”

  “That’s better,” Shira said.

  “Follow me,” Pol said. He looked at Shira, holding onto her bow. He was going to say ‘swords out,’ but that wouldn’t work. “Weapons ready.”

  He located the men, not far from where they stood. They threaded their way through the trees. For once, Pol was happy Demeron wasn’t crashing through the woods. How he missed his horse!

  The squad had slowed down, trying to find a way through the underbrush and the woods. Pol tweaked them all invisible. It was easier than he thought as their foes approached.

  “Don’t kill the last man,” Pol said to Shira. “We need to find out who sent them.” He ran over and over in his mind what Val might do in the circumstance.

  Were they being too foolhardy? Pol shook his head, answering his own thoughts. Between his thrown knives and Shira’s arrows, he judged any fight might be more than even in their favor. He cast his location spell around and gasped. “There are ten more riders coming from the south. We’ll have to head back to Borstall.”

  Now that the seven riders had passed by, Pol led them out of the woods and through the fields back towards Borstall. He breathed heavily as fear took hold of him. They had been set-up. With the second group, Pol had no doubts they had been betrayed. He knew they had no chance against seventeen opponents.

  They reached the road when the armed men exploded out of the woods. Pol knew there would be a race back to Borstall, but they might have an advantage, knowing how crowded the road had been. He led them across the road and traveled up the other side.

  He called back to Shira. “Can you shoot from horseback?”

  She nodded. “Do we have a big enough lead?”

  Pol shrugged and put his attention back on the road. The ride wasn’t much different from riding in the woods, dodging the riders and walkers on the roadway. He looked back and saw a mixture of North Salvan and South Salvan uniforms. The men held their swords high.

  The crowds quickly understood that they were in the middle of a pursuit and began to flow off the road, making it easier for the attackers. As their enemy drew closer, Shira shot an arrow over one hundred yards into the crowd of riders. She let fly another four arrows until their pursuers spread out.

  Pol sensed that three of the riders had slowed. They couldn’t turn and stand against fourteen. Horker rode further ahead, and now that they had outpaced the thinning crowds, the three of them had put a tiny bit of distance between their pursuers.

  After a while, Pol could feel his mount begin to flag. All of the horses behind were slowing as well, except for a North Salvan, who pushed his horse closer to them. He turned around and sought out the pattern of the air and the location of the charging horse, and then used his magic to push the man off his mount. Without a rider, the horse bolted forward and nearly reached Shira before veering away.

  They reached the outskirts of a village, and the pounding hooves on the road became the clopping of horseshoes on the cobbled payment. Pol used his magic to move stacked wooden boxes onto the road behind him. He looked back to see a few horses leap over the boxes, but more balked at the obstructions, resulting in most of the mounts milling around.

  Only four horsemen were now close enough to represent a threat. Three wore South Salvan colors, plus one North Salvan rider. The chase had reached an equilibrium. The soldiers couldn’t gain on Pol, and Pol’s group couldn’t pull away.

  They continued towards Borstall and finally reached the city gate. As they passed through Pol yelled, “Close the gate!” He jumped off his spent horse and ran to the ramparts while Horker and Shira made sure the guards closed the way.

  The four men looked up at Pol. The three South Salvan’s turned and trotted away. With the gate closed, there would be no speedy pursuit. Pol leaned against a flagpole and lifted the North Salvan from his horse and teleported him all the way up to the rampart where he dropped him from about ten feet onto the ground.

  His vision began to cloud up as he drew his sword. Shira was suddenly at his side. “We need to interrogate now. Use a truth spell,” Pol said as he collapsed to the ground and leaned against a parapet, watching Horker administer the spell. He could barely move from the effort, but fought off passing out long enough to coach Horker’s questions.

  “Who sent you out to find us?” Horker said.

  The man struggled with the spell, but said two words. “Princess Honna.”

  “Ask him if she notified the South Salvans and how she did it,” Pol said.

  Horker repeated Pol’s words.

  “Princess Honna sent one of us to deliver the message last night.”

  The captive struggled to his feet and jumped off the wall. Those on the wall rushed to the edge to see the body below.

  “Will anyone believe us?” Shira said.

  “Yes, they will,” Kelso said. His head bobbed as he walked up the stairs. “Honna.” He spoke it like a curse.

  Pol gathered enough strength to make it down the stairs. They all followed Kelso out the now-open gate to examine the body of the soldier. He wished he could determine if the man was under mind-control. If he was, that meant a Tesnan magician lurked within the Borstall
walls.

  “Do you know him?” Horker asked Kelso.

  “I do. He’s a new member of the Castle Guard. I’ll have a talk with Jamey.”

  “He used the term ‘one of us’. That means there could be more. Can I come along?” Pol said. He wanted to know if Kelso’s replacement was under any kind of magical influence.

  “Why were you at the gate?” Pol said. “You couldn’t have possibly gotten word and mounted up so quickly.”

  Kelso handed over a note.

  Pol opened up the message. He recognized Amonna’s handwriting. “Something might happen to Pol,” she wrote.

  “I was just about to head out to the closest town to see if they had noticed your party passing through, but I didn’t expect the gate to be closed. How did you get the culprit up on the battlement?”

  “I tweaked him.”

  “You moved him all the way from the ground?” Kelso said, his eyes filled with astonishment.

  Pol nodded. “It took a lot out of me. I also moved a man off his horse, but that is a shift of three feet or so.”

  People began to surround the dead man. Kelso flipped him onto his stomach to hide his face. A couple of city guards ran up.

  “Take him to the Castle Guard building, but cover him with something first.”

  They both saluted. “Yes, Lord Beastwell.”

  Kelso rubbed his hands on his clothes. “You saved me a long ride,” he said as they retrieved their horses and rode to the castle.

  All four of them rode directly to the guard headquarters. Kelso introduced them to Jamey Carter, Kelso’s replacement, who ushered them into the Captain’s office. Pol remembered seeing him when they first entered the city.

  “So tell me what happened.”

  Pol looked at Horker and nodded, so the monk told the story.

  “Would you mind if I checked your head?”

  Jamey grinned. “Do you think I have lice?” He nodded his consent.

  Pol smiled. “Something worse.” He put a hand on his head and didn’t detect mind-control or coercion. “Good. You’re clean.”

  “I did take a bath this morning,” Jamey said.

  “The Tesnans have developed a spell for mind-control and a worse one for coercion. I can tell if your mind has been tampered with.”

  Jamey raised an eyebrow.

  “As I said, you’re clean. I’m almost sure the soldier who jumped from the city wall was coerced. That would mean there is an unfriendly magician or magicians in Borstall.”

  “Who would have done such a thing?”

  Kelso’s face turned very grave. “Honna. Horker put the man under a truth spell.”

  Jamey looked at Horker. “Good thinking!”

  “Actually Pol told me to administer the truth spell. He’s a former monk from Tesna.”

  Jamey looked at Kelso. “And him?” He pointed at Pol.

  “Deftnis.” Kelso said.

  The Captain nodded. His light approach to the interview had ended. “So Honna arranged for the ambush? She must have, unless the King himself is involved. Kelso said that King Colvin announced your task for today at an intimate dinner last night.”

  “He did,” Horker said. “Unless the walls have ears, Honna is definitely a possibility.”

  “She’s a possibility even if someone listened in,” Kelso said.

  The conversation sure sounded like a Seeker problem to Pol.

  “You’ll need more evidence than the utterance of Princess Honna’s name from a man who seconds later committed suicide.”

  “I suspect that it’s not just Honna, then. She wouldn’t be associating with common soldiers,” Kelso said.

  “Could Prince Grostin be involved?” Horker said.

  Jamey nodded. “Anything is possible with him.”

  Pol thought for a moment. “Has there been a recent influx of new men?”

  “There has,” Jamey said.

  “Any from South Salvan?”

  Kelso looked at Jamey. “A number came with excellent references.”

  Pol rubbed his chin, surprised to find some whiskers. He wondered what color they would be. “Bythia planted a number of South Salvans in various posts at Alsador.”

  “You mean Queen Bythia?” Jamey said. “How did you know that?”

  “I had an opportunity to go to Listya before her death and had a talk with Regent Tomio about it.”

  “For a youngster, you do get around.”

  Pol nodded. “I do. I wonder if there has been some seeding of the enemy under your noses.”

  Jamey rose from his chair. “Are you accusing me—”

  “I’m trying to help you, Captain Carter. When the South Salvans come, wouldn’t it be convenient for their spies to cause mischief in Borstall?” Pol said.

  Kelso put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Jamey, think about it. Honna is instrumental in getting word to the South Salvan forces. North Salvan soldiers, if they are North Salvans, attack Pol’s, uh, Nater’s group from both the north and the south. They would probably need magicians to find where the three of them headed. It wasn’t happenstance.”

  “You called the boy, Pol.” Jamey looked at Kelso.

  “I don’t know what I was saying. It’s all so shocking, isn’t it, Nater?”

  “Indeed it is. I suggest if the other three soldiers who wore North Salvan colors return, that you detain them and call me.”

  Jamey folded his arms and smiled. “I certainly will.” The four of them headed out the door. “Another word with you, Kelso, my friend.”

  Pol groaned inside, but just kept walking. It might be time to talk to his stepfather.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ~

  HORKER SAT WITH POL AND SHIRA at a table in the kitchen. It seemed to be a quickly-formed habit.

  “I don’t want to move from this table,” Pol said. “Kelso. Why did he have to slip up?” He groaned and covered his eyes with a hand.

  “You’ve been very lucky, so far. If you spent any time at all with your Deftnis friends, the mistake probably would have been made by them.”

  Pol nodded. “You’re right.” He sighed. “I have some Seeking to do, it seems. I’m going back to the Captain and offer my help.”

  “Rather full of yourself, I see?”

  Pol looked up into the eyes of Grostin. They all scrambled to their feet. “My Prince,” they nearly said in unison. Pol and Horker bowed while Shira performed a curtsey wearing pants.

  “I have some experience. That’s why I ended up here,” Pol said. He quickly reviewed the conversation that Grostin might have picked up, but nothing they said indicated Pol’s identity.

  Grostin nodded, but he didn’t look satisfied with Pol’s answer. “What happened that brought you back to Borstall? I had expected you three to be gone for four or five days.”

  Horker bowed his head again. “We were set upon by soldiers. Seventeen, if our count was correct. That is too many, even for us.”

  Pol endured Grostin’s condescending laugh. “A fable,” the Prince said.

  “Kelso Beastwell saw one of them.”

  The Prince snorted. “Kelso. A has-been if there ever was one.”

  “Four or five guards saw the men ride right up to the gates as they were closing in on us. Nater teleported one of them onto the castle wall, but he jumped off.”

  “I suppose he ran away?” Grostin pushed out his lower lip, imitating a pout.

  Pol pursed his lips. “Quite the contrary, My Prince. His body was taken to the Captain of the Castle Guard. Feel free to inspect him, to see if he is real or not.”

  Grostin’s hand moved to slap Pol in the face, but Pol used his magic to avoid the blow. The Prince’s hand swiped through thin air.

  “You are quite fast,” he said.

  “I am a pattern-master,” Pol said. “Do you know what they are?”

  That brought out a grunt. “Another fable?”

  “It is no fable,” Shira said, and then amended her stateme
nt with a hasty ‘My Prince.’

  “I will do my duty and inspect the body,” Grostin said. A tiny bit of his confidence seemed to fray as he left them standing in the kitchen.

  They all sat down, and one of the cooks rushed to them. She beamed at them. “Impressive! I’ve never seen anyone stand up to the Prince before, except for the disinherited one, whose name I am forbidden to utter. What can I get you?”

  Pol had lost his appetite, but he let the others get him something. While they waited, Queen Isa stepped into the room.

  “Ah, there you are,” she said. “I heard you had returned under distressed circumstances. I think you three might want to report to the King. He sent you, after all.” She looked at Pol more closely. “You really moved one of the attackers to the top of the city wall?”

  Pol nodded. “Word travels fast around here. I did, but it just about did me in.”

  “Oh,” she put her hands up in the air and let them drop. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Have you, Captain Horker?”

  “No, My Queen. It was an impressive feat. There would be few Tesnan monks who could perform such a feat.”

  Isa snorted. “More than likely none could,” she said drily.

  She sat down on the bench. Just like a common person, Pol thought. The cooks brought their plates.

  Isa looked at the food and then smiled at the ladies. “Would you mind getting a plate for me? Maybe not quite so much.”

  “Certainly, My Queen,” one of them said with a curtsey and a shocked face.

  “I’ll just take a few morsels from Horker’s plate.”

  “I’d be honored,” the monk said, smiling and pushing his plate over.

  “Would you mind me asking a question about your daughter, Bythia?” Pol said.

  Isa’s smile disappeared. “What do you want to know?”

  “Did she have magical talent?”

  The Queen pursed her lips. “Don’t tell Colvin. We do have our secrets, right?”

  All three of them nodded.

  “She was quite accomplished, but it was a state secret. I’m only telling this because of our open relationship.”