The Ambivalent Magician

by Simon Hawke

  "I have always served Lord Warrick faithfully! I shall prove myself worthy, Mistress," Ivor said. "I swear!"

  "We shall see," said Colin. "Rise, Captain Ivor."

  Ivor rose trembling to his feet, but kept his head lowered.

  "What do you know of one called ... Brewster?" Colin asked.

  "The outlaw mage?" said Ivor. "I only know what people say, my lord. That he is a mighty wizard who works wonders and sets himself above all others. And I know he is my master's enemy. This very day, the army marches for Brigantium, to wage war upon his forces."

  Pamela suppressed a gasp.

  "Brigantium, you say?" said Colin quickly, before Pamela's alarm could be noticed by the soldier. "And where might that be? Remember, we are strangers to this world."

  "Aye, of course, my lord. Brigantium lies to the west, near the foot of the Purple Mountains, about a week's journey hence by horse," the captain replied.

  Pamela frowned, but Colin shook his head, forestalling any comment from her.

  "And they march today, you say?" asked Colin.

  "Doubtless, they have already departed, my lord," Ivor replied. "It is a mighty army King Billy has assembled, and victory is assured."

  "I see," said Colin. "And the king is leading them?"

  "Oh, no, My Lord," said Ivor. "King Billy lead an expedition into war? It is all he can do to find his way around the palace. The commander of the royal army, Lord Kelvin, leads the force, together -with commanders sent with regiments from other kingdoms, and the mercenaries, who are led by one of their own number, a freebooter known as Black Jack."

  "It sounds like quite an army," Colin said.

  "It is, indeed, my lord. The largest ever assembled in the twenty-seven kingdoms. But Brigantium presents a threat that must be eliminated. The outlaw mage, Brewster Doc, is said to be a very mighty wizard, and a dangerous one."

  "Listen to me, Ivor," Colin said. "Warrick has left strict instructions with us that this sorcerer, Brewster, is not to be harmed. He wants him alive."

  "But. . ." Ivor looked worried. "But Lord Kelvin has sworn that he would return with the outlaw mage's head upon a pike!"

  "That would make Warrick very angry," Colin replied as Pamela paled. "The wizard Brewster must not be harmed, under any circumstances."

  "I fear that is not in my power to change, my lord," said Ivor, with a nervous swallow. "Only the king can issue such commands."

  "I see," said Colin, trying to decide what to say next.

  "Shall I summon the king to you, my lord?" asked Ivor.

  Colin raised his eyebrows. "Summon the king? Is Warrick in the habit of doing that?"

  "Lord Warrick sends word that he requests an audience," Ivor replied. "It is always made as a request, for the sake of appearances, but the king always comes whenever Lord Warrick sends for him."

  "Well, then by all means send for him," said Colin. "But do not tell him who it is that summons him. Let him think it comes from Warrick. We would not wish to frighten him unduly."

  "I understand, my lord. But... your pardon, my lord, I would not know who it is that summons His Majesty, in any case. How should I address your honored presences?"

  "Our true names would sear your tongue should they ever pass your lips," said Colin, improvising. "However, you may address us as Lord Charles and Lady Diana. Those names will do as well as any others."

  "Aye, my lord Charles," said Ivor. "I shall do as you command: Do I have your leave to send word to the king?"

  "You do," said Colin. Then, as Ivor rose and started to back out of the room, he said, "Oh, and, Ivor ... one more thing."

  "Aye, my lord?"

  "We could do with something to eat."

  Ivor's eyes grew very wide and he swallowed hard. "Who ... whom shall I fetch for your dinner, my lord?"

  "Well, we shall try to refrain from consuming human flesh for the present," Colin replied. "In its place, some roasted animal flesh from your kitchens will suffice. Along with some vegetables, some bread, and some wine, perhaps?"

  "It shall be done, my lord," said Ivor.

  "Good. You may go."

  Ivor backed, bowing, out of the room and Megan closed the door behind him, with a giggle.

  "Charles and Diana?" Pamela said, raising her eyebrows.

  "First thing that came to mind," said Colin, with a shrug. "Anyway, what difference does it make? That was a pretty good performance, if I do say so myself. I think we're off to a good start."

  "A good start?" said Pamela. "Are you kidding? There's an army on the way to kill Marvin! What in the world has he gotten himself into? And what's all this about him being a sorcerer?"

  "Makes sense, really, if you think about it," Colin said. "We just convinced old Ivor we were a couple of demons. Brewster probably did much the same sort of thing. And seeing as how he's a lot smarter than I am, I'm sure he did a much better job of it, all told. But it seems he's run afoul of the local power structure."

  "That's putting it mildly," Pamela replied. "What are we going to do?"

  "Well, the most important thing is not to panic. Act like you're completely in control. Attitude is everything when you're trying to con people. We're making pretty good progress. We've got Ivor terrified of us, we've got a rough idea of where Brewster is, we've snapped our fingers and the king is about to come running, and dinner's on the way. Not too shabby, really, considering we've barely been here half an hour."

  "You're actually enjoying all this, aren't you?" Pamela said.

  Hightower grinned. "It is a bit of a kick, isn't it?"

  "This isn't a game, Colin. One mistake and we could easily wind up dead. I don't relish the idea of being burned at the stake."

  "Oh, they don't burn people anymore," said Megan.

  "Well, that's a relief," said Pamela.

  "They draw and quarter them, hang them, or chop their heads off."

  "I'm so glad you shared that," Pamela replied wryly. She glanced at Colin. "What are you going to tell the king?"

  "I'm not quite sure yet," he replied. "It all depends on what sort of chap he is. Warrick apparently has the king under his thumb. Ivor's opinion of him certainly did not seem very high. If it proves accurate, then this whole thing may be a lot easier than we thought."

  "Just don't get overconfident," said Pamela. "We're on a lucky streak so far. But lucky streaks run out."

  "Believe me, I'm well aware of that," said Colin. "I've been on a streak of bad luck that's lasted damn near ten years, but I have a feeling all that's about to change. When I get back with this story, I'll be sitting on top of the world. I'll wind up editor of the bloody New York Times. Or maybe even USA Today."

  "Let's worry about getting back in one piece first," said Pamela. "With Marvin. Somehow, we've got to get to this place Brigantium and find him before the army gets there."

  "Well, now that we know where he is, we could simply take the time machine," said Colin. "If he's become some sort of famous wizard or whatever in Brigantium, he shouldn't be too difficult to find once we get there."

  "There's just one problem," Pamela said. "I don't know how to get us there."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Exactly what I said. How do I program the destination? I can't just type in, 'Brigantium, at the foot of the mountains to the west.' I need specific coordinates. Aside from which, I'm not exactly certain how it works."

  "What are you talking about?" said Colin. "You got us here."

  "The machine got us here. I simply used the auto-return function of the program. If I alter the settings now, I'm not convinced I can reprogram the exact coordinates to get us back. I didn't design this system. Marvin did."

  "But you're a cybernetics engineer," said Colin, with a frown.

  "Yes, but Marvin's got his own way of doing things when it comes to computers. His mind works in a very strange way. The basic commands are easy, but the programming functions are like nothing I've ever seen."

  "But you've read his notes. You've duplicate
d his machine."

  "I've duplicated the hardware, but it's not functional," Pamela replied. "I know Marvin better than anybody else, and I've still got migraines trying to decipher his notes. He's totally nonlinear. Part of it was on the paper, and part of it was in his head. And I have no idea how to duplicate the software. Given enough time, I might be able to figure it all out, but even then there's no guarantee I'd get it right."

  "Well, now wait a minute," Colin said. "What is it you're saying? You mean ... you don't know how to get us back!"

  "Oh, I can get us back, all right," she said, "so long as we don't alter the programmed settings."

  "But.. . you can check them, can't you? I mean, can't you just bring them up on the screen and copy them down or something?"

  "It's not that simple. If I changed them and then didn't reenter them exactly the right way, there's no telling what could happen. At best, it simply wouldn't work. At worst, we could wind up in outer space or something."

  "Well, that's just bloody marvelous, isn't it?" said Colin. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

  "Look, I didn't twist your arm to come along, you know."

  "Right. And where would you be now if I hadn't?"

  "I must admit you've got a point there."

  Colin exhaled heavily. "Well, we'll simply have to make sure no one mucks about with that thing and spins the dials on the combination. I don't imagine that will be too difficult. If nobody comes in here but Warrick's servants, then it's not too likely anyone would mess about with his things, his being the royal wizard and all. I suppose we could put the fear of God into old Ivor and have him and some of his soldiers guard it with their lives while we're gone, but the smart thing to do would be for us to stay right here."

  "And what about Marvin?"

  Colin shrugged. "Let the army bring him to us. We'll simply tell the king that Warrick wants him to send a message to his general that Brewster is to be taken alive and unharmed, and brought back here."

  "And what if something happens to him during the fighting?" asked Pamela. "What if the message doesn't get through? We can't just sit here and do nothing. I'm not going to take that chance."

  Colin sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. Well, then I guess there's nothing else to do but set off for Brigantium and try to get there before the army does. We should be able to manage that. An army on the march doesn't move very quickly. I suppose we'll have to use horses, won't we?"

  "I doubt they've got any helicopters," Pamela replied. "Can you ride?"

  "I was on a pony once, when I was ten years old," said Colin. "Since then, my only relationship with horses has been betting on them."

  "Then we'll have to see if we can get some sort of carriage," Pamela said.

  "And an armed escort," Colin added. "I don't think traveling unprotected would be wise. We're not going for a ride through Hyde Park. We only have thirteen bullets, a can of Mace, and a rape whistle. That's not exactly a formidable arsenal."

  Pamela nodded. "No, it's not. I wish we'd had time to prepare for this trip."

  "Bit late now. But leave it up to old Colin. I'll just record a couple of messages for His Majesty from our friend, the Unseen One. And you might get that rape whistle of yours out. A blast or two on it at the appropriate time could make for a nice effect."

  Pamela shook her head. "The Unseen One, astral familiars, feasting on human flesh ... where do you come up with this stuff?"

  "Have you forgotten whom I work for?"

  "Oh. Right."

  "Relax. I'll get us through this. I've been in tight spots before. Trust me."

  Pamela grimaced. "Whenever a man says, 'Trust me,' I grab a firm hold of my purse and cross my legs."

  "Well, in this case, I don't happen to have an interest in either of those two commodities," said Colin. "Although I would keep a firm grip on that purse if I were you. It's about all we've got, aside from our wits."

  "Perhaps we'd better look around and see if there's anything else here we can use," said Pamela.

  "Take care," said Megan. "Warrick may have his possessions spell-warded. Wizards often do that."

  "Spell-warded?" Pamela asked with a frown. "What's that?"

  "Protected by magic," Megan replied. "If you touch any of his things, something terrible could happen."

  "Don't be ridiculous, my dear," said Colin. "There's no such thing as magic."

  "Well, then how do you suppose Warrick learned to use your chariot?"

  "You mean the time machine?" said Colin. "He probably saw Brewster using it and copied what he did. Or else he simply experimented and threw a switch and-"

  "He did no such thing," insisted Megan. "He never even touched it. He stood ten feet away or more and spoke a spell and gestured."

  "That's impossible," said Pamela.

  "I swear 'tis true. He is a mighty sorcerer, I tell you, and all these"-she indicated the books and scrolls stacked everywhere,-"are his arcane spells and enchantments."

  "Nonsense," Colin said. He put down the tape recorder he was holding and reached out to one of the stacks, picking up a leather-bound tome. "It's merely a lot of primitive superstition. See? I've touched this and absolutely nothing's happened." He glanced at the cover of the book. "The Grimoire of Honorious, eh? Sounds like something you'd buy in one of those New Age shops." He opened it.

  There was a loud pop and a puff of smoke, followed by a metallic clang as Colin disappeared and a chamberpot fell to the floor where he stood.

  "Ow! Jesus bloody Christ! the chamberpot cried out in Colin's voice.

  Pamela stared, wide-eyed with disbelief. "Oh, my God!"

  "I told you," Megan said. "Now look what you've gone and done."

  There was a pounding at the door.

  Pamela looked toward the door, fearfully.

  "My lord! 'Tis Ivor!"

  "Now what do we do?" asked Megan.

  Pamela took several deep breaths, trying to compose herself. "You'd better open it."

  Megan opened the door and Ivor came rushing in, bending low as he dropped to one knee. "My lord, I rushed here as soon as I-" He looked around. "Where is my lord Charles?"

  "Right here," said the chamberpot.

  Ivor stared.

  "Lord Charles has decided to change form," said Pamela quickly. "What news do you bring?"

  "Terrible news, My Lady," Ivor said. "The king has been abducted!"

  "What?"

  "It occurred shortly before dawn, my lady," Ivor said. "Rebels had gained admission through a secret passageway unknown to the palace guard. It led to the queen's chamber. They overpowered the guards in the corridor and made off with the king and queen! The alarm has been given, and the palace guard is combing the city, searching for them. Sheriff Waylon has taken command in the king's absence and he requests an audience with my lord Warrick."

  "Did you tell him Warrick wasn't here?"

  "Nay, my lady, I did but do your bidding not to announce your presence. But what should I do? What should I tell the sheriff?"

  Pamela thought fast. "Tell him nothing. The king and queen are none of our concern. We must make certain that the wizard Brewster is taken alive for Warrick, for those were his commands. Assemble an armed escort at once with provisions to take us to Brigantium. We will need swift horses." She glanced down at the chamberpot and swallowed hard, still unable to believe what had just happened. "Lord Charles will travel with me in his present form. But we must move quickly. Go!"

  "Aye, my lady, as you command," said Ivor.

  The moment he left the room, Pamela leaned against a table for support.

  "That was quick thinking," said the chamberpot. "But what in the bloody hell happened to me?"

  "I don't think you really want to know," said Pamela.

  "Give me a hand," said the chamberpot. "I can't seem to get up."

  "A hand?" said Pamela, shaking her head in dismay.

  "Yes, give me your hand."

  "All right, if you say so," Pamela replied. She reached d
own and picked him up.

  "What... ?" said Colin. "How did you ... ?"

  "Prepare yourself for a shock," said Pamela. She carried him over to a small, ornate mirror mounted on the wall. "This is what happened te you," she said, holding him up to the mirror.

  "Holy shit! It can't be! It's impossible! It's ... it's some kind of trick!"

  " 'Tis a spell of transformation," said the mirror. "You opened the Grimoire of Honorious, didn't you?"

  Pamela stepped back from the mirror, startled.

  "I'm having a bad dream," said the chamberpot.

  Pamela slowly approached the mirror.

  " 'Tis all right, I won't bite," the mirror said. "I am the Enchanted Mirror of Truth. How may I serve you?"

  "I don't believe it," Pamela said. And then, involuntarily, she giggled. "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

  "Well, 'tis all relative, isn't it?" the mirror said. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And there's much more to being beautiful than just a great body and a pretty face. There's a person's inner beauty to consider. Like, is she nice? Does she have a good personality? A sense of humor? A kind and understanding nature? I must admit, you score pretty well on those points. About an eight and half, I'd say."

  "This can't be happening," said Pamela. "It's a two-way mirror. Who's there? Who's on the other side?"

  "No one. Unless, of course, you mean the question in a metaphyscial sense, in which case, the answer would be rather lengthy and complex. The answer depends on which truth you seek, for as I told you, milady, I am the Enchanted Mirror of Truth."

  Pamela shook her head. "Enchanted? But. . . that isn't possible. There's no such thing as magic!"

  "Excuse me," said the chamberpot wryly, "you want to run that by me again?"

  "This has to be some kind of hallucination," Pamela said. "Magic doesn't exist!"

  "It does not exist in your world," said the mirror, "but it does in this one."

  "In ... this one?" Pamela said weakly. "What do you mean?"

  "I think perhaps you'd better sit down," the mirror replied. "This could take a while."

  Ten

  Well, it looks as if things are coming to a head. Pamela has crossed the dimensional boundaries and is now in the same world as Brewster; Warrick is safely stuck in modern-day London, where he can no longer cause any trouble; Megan has found her way back home; and after years of sticking his nose into other people's business, Hightower has finally discovered that curiosity sometimes kills the cat... or in this case, turns it into a talking potty. It only goes to show that just when you think you've got things under control, life has a way of pulling the rug out from under you. The important thing is that I've finally got this story back on track. You see, I told you, always trust your narrator.