Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “We have little time to spare to tell our story,” Prince William informed the captain, “but if you and a small contingent of guards would accompany us to the King’s kitchen, I will explain the most relevant parts on the way.”

  “The kitchen?” the captain asked. “Is the Prince of Montavia hungry?”

  “Nearly starving,” he replied. “As is Aaron.”

  “But neither is here for a meal,” Ramsey jumped in. He leaned down and whispered a few words into the captain’s ear. The man’s eyes widened when he learned of Nyla’s complicity in the boys’ disappearance and swiftly summoned three soldiers.

  “Accompany me and our guests to the estate at once!” he ordered his men before addressing Ramsey. “We will gladly assist.”

  The captain and his men guided the horses to the front entrance where William, Ramsey and Aaron dismounted and followed the soldiers inside. The large flag of Rhiál suspended from an upper window was awash in intermittent sunshine and shadows as it fluttered in the breezes off the lake. They hurried to the corridor leading to the main kitchen where Nyla was usually busy at work with her cooking staff this time of day. Just before they arrived, the captain sent two of the three soldiers down another hallway, whispering brief instructions. The third soldier remained with him.

  When they neared the kitchen, a pair of wooden doors at the main entrance was wide open to allow the excess heat to escape during lunch preparations. The sound of bubbling kettles, clattering dishes and workers’ conversations drifted into the corridor. William requested that he and Aaron be allowed to confront Nyla on their own, so Ramsey, the captain and the additional soldier remained a few steps back.

  “We’ll linger close behind,” Ramsey promised, uneasy about how Nyla might react if she thought she was cornered.

  “We’ll be fine,” Aaron replied. “I want to see her face when she sees us. I’m guessing that she hasn’t had contact with Bosh and her other associates since we were kidnapped, so she has no reason to suspect we know that she was involved. I look forward to our reunion.”

  Ramsey smirked, admitting to himself that the boys deserved at least this little moment to themselves before Nyla was arrested. “You’d better get going,” he said. “We still have a war to fight.”

  They nodded before walking into the warm kitchen where two large fireplaces burned with crackling oak logs stacked in pyramids. A large iron kettle filled with water was near boiling as it hung above one of the blazes. Another kettle in the second fireplace simmered with the tantalizing aroma of beef stew. A multitude of stone ovens built inside the brick walls released a scent of freshly baking bread and biscuits. Oil lamps attached to the walls provided extra illumination to the large room. Barrels of warm, sudsy water were lined up against a far wall near a pantry where workers washed dishes and rinsed them off in another barrel of clear rain water. A constant chatter of voices rose above the snapping flames, clattering plates and rhythmic knives dancing upon the chopping boards. As Aaron led William to the center of the room, happy to be back in King Basil’s royal kitchen, he spotted Nyla near a far counter. His heart filled with disappointment for the woman he had once given both his trust and respect.

  “There she is,” he pointed, whispering to William who saw her speaking to a member of her staff behind a veil of herb bundles hanging from the rafters. But before William could reply, a few of the other busy workers suddenly noticed that their long lost co-worker had finally returned.

  “Aaron!” blurted out an older, teenage girl who was slicing fresh carrots. She dropped her knife on the cutting board and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around the young boy. “Where have you been? We thought you might be dead.”

  “And I’m happy to see you, too,” he muttered, trying to catch a breath as he pried himself out of her arms.

  “Nyla, look who’s back!” another voice shouted as the excited staff gathered around Aaron and Prince William.

  “What’s all the commotion?” Nyla’s voice crackled as she stepped around the drying herbs. “We have meals to prepare for some hungry–” Her dark eyes locked onto Aaron and William with ballooning astonishment, and for a moment she was speechless.

  “Nyla, we found our way back!” Aaron exclaimed as if he had greatly missed her, a huge smile upon his face. William played along as if delighted to see her.

  “I can’t believe it,” she replied, smiling nervously and exuding exaggerated relief as she fidgeted with the white, cloth cap covering her dark locks. “What a wonderful surprise. How did you get here? And more importantly, where have you been?”

  “You may not believe this, ma’am,” Prince William said with all seriousness, “but Aaron and I were kidnapped along the docks by some men three nights ago. By whom, we’re not sure, but we barely managed to escape with our lives yesterday morning.”

  “What a terrible ordeal!” she uttered, somewhat relieved after the prince admitted that he didn’t know who had committed the crime. “Do you know where these men are? Did you tell the guards? Did you tell King Basil?”

  “Prince William and I plan to go into town with one of the captains and some of his men if the fighting subsides and show them where we were held,” Aaron said before sighing despondently. “But I don’t think it will do any good. Now that we’ve escaped, they may have fled the city.”

  “Well you’re safe and back in my kitchen where you belong, Aaron. I’m extremely grateful for that,” Nyla replied. “And you, too, Prince William. I shudder to think what a loss to Montavia it would be had you been injured–or worse.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Now as long as you’re here, how about a meal? Both of you look famished!” Nyla carried on in a motherly sort of way, leading the two boys to a wooden table in the far corner of the room. “Berta, ladle out some stew for these fine lads and round up some bread and butter. Cornelius, two cups of fresh milk from the jug over there. Hurry now!”

  “You’re too kind,” Aaron replied as he and William took their seats. “Do you want me to return to work after I eat?”

  “Nonsense!” she responded with an uneasy laugh. “You’re entitled to a few days off. Now sit and enjoy your meal,” she said as Berta and Cornelius darted about with their dishes, utensils and food. “In the meantime, I must scurry off on important business. I’ll return shortly,” she said, removing her cap and tossing it upon a counter.

  “Where are you going?” Aaron asked as if saddened to see her leave.

  Nyla juggled several excuses in her mind. “To meet with one of the King’s advisors, of course, and discuss this terrible ordeal that has affected one of my best workers,” she finally said, tapping him lightly on the shoulder as she brushed by and hastened toward the door. But when she stepped into the corridor, she was startled to see Ramsey and two of the King’s men standing there. “May I help you, gentlemen?” she asked, her heart beating rapidly.

  “We’re waiting for Aaron and Prince William,” the captain informed her. “We’ll be escorting them back for more questioning to get to the root of this matter.”

  “That’s very thorough of you,” she replied. “Would you like something to eat while you wait?”

  “No, ma’am,” Ramsey replied. “We’re fine, thank you.”

  “In that case, I won’t bother you. It’s a terrible thing what happened to those boys. I hope you apprehend the perpetrators quickly.” Nyla nodded sharply as she prepared to scoot down the hallway. “I only wish I could be there when you catch them.”

  “Then you should join us,” Ramsey added, holding out a hand and stopping Nyla from passing by him. “Aaron mentioned that you were like a mother to him, so it’s only fitting that you should be there when we catch these rogues. Shall I escort you to your room so you can get a cloak? I’m sure it’s chilly by the lake.”

  “No need,” she calmly replied, taking a step back. “I just happen to have one in the kitchen. I’ll get it right now.”

  She turned around and hurried back insid
e the warm kitchen, though her face was already flush and burning up. She shot past the other workers and headed toward a back doorway far from the bustle in the main section of the kitchen. She pushed the door open and muttered in frustration, knowing she had to flee the estate before her cover was blown. But as soon as she stepped though the opening, Nyla found her way blocked again. Standing there were the other two soldiers the captain had sent on ahead.

  “Going somewhere?” one of them asked.

  “Please step out of my way. I have much work to do,” she brusquely replied.

  “You’ll get to your room much quicker through the front corridor,” Aaron said.

  Nyla spun around and saw Aaron and Prince William standing there, baffled as to why they weren’t eating at the table. “Who said I’m going to…” Slowly, Ramsey and the captain stepped around the corner and stood behind Aaron and William, their arms folded and their expressions stern. “… my room?” Nyla swallowed hard, her eyes shifting, her breathing constricted.

  “My guess is that you were planning to leave the estate,” William replied. “Though how you’d manage to get past all the guards is beyond me.”

  “Why would I do that?” Nyla said with an uneasy laugh.

  “Perhaps to meet up with your husband?” Aaron suggested.

  Nyla flinched. “But I’m not married,” she replied, scrunching up her face in feigned confusion.

  Aaron smirked. “I believe his name is Bosh. And frankly, he’s not a very pleasant man to hang around with. Trust me.”

  Nyla held up a hand to her mouth, too stunned to speak as her imagined world under Drogin’s rule slowly crumbled around her.

  “Nyla, it’s time you had a nice, long conversation with some of King Basil’s advisors,” the captain said as William, Aaron and Ramsey looked on with nearly identical smirks. “I think you’ll have much to talk about.”

  William, Aaron and Ramsey left the estate shortly after Nyla had been led away. The two boys had earlier provided directions to the building where they were kidnapped, and as best they could remember, indicated where the farmhouse was located where they had been held. Troops would be sent to both places to apprehend Bosh and his associates if they were still there.

  “King Basil will have to replace Nyla,” Aaron commented as they stepped into the breezy sunlight filtering through a handful of trees swaying in the breezes off the water.

  “That will be the least of his problems,” William said as he gazed at the lake and the field to the south. “I’d like to visit with him if possible, though I suppose he’s occupied with more important matters right now.”

  “I’m sure word will be sent to him about your and Aaron’s return,” Ramsey assured him as they walked to where their steeds were tied up. But before William could reply, a soldier on horseback who had just been speaking to one of the guards near the front gate sauntered over to the trio, nodding his head in greeting.

  “Prince William, I am Yurris, part of a relay running messages and updates to King Basil in his tent,” he said, indicating where the King was keeping his watch. “A short while ago he was talking to me about you and a boy named Aaron who had been missing. One of the guards at the gate pointed both of you out after I heard a rumor that you had returned.”

  “It is no rumor. And we are fine,” William replied. “When you return, please tell King Basil so and thank him for his concern.”

  “Better yet, you can thank him yourself if you accompany me back to his tent,” he said. “I’m leaving now and am certain that your presence would do the King’s spirits a world of good. His physical condition has taken a turn for the worse these last few hours. Your absence has weighed heavily on his mind.” Yurris noted a flash of concern across Ramsey’s countenance. “I assure you that it is quite safe there, still far enough away from the battle and well guarded.”

  “Aaron and I have been through our share of trouble and are not intimidated by the nearness of the conflict,” William said.

  Aaron looked at Ramsey, a slight smirk upon his face. “Just ask Ramsey. He can vouch for that after our recent encounter with him in the woods.”

  “I suppose I can,” Ramsey replied, realizing that the two boys would probably be as safe there as here on the estate. “Still, watch yourself. With Drogin’s troops gaining reinforcements on the water, his army might push this way at any time. You should be–”

  Suddenly, Ramsey and many of the soldiers standing nearby grew quiet, their gazes cast far down the field at the low ridge between the trees. With troubled hearts, they saw that a second wave of enemy soldiers had arrived. The flags of Drogin multiplied on both land and water in the last few minutes, snapping in the breeze as if announcing Rhiál’s imminent destruction. William’s mouth was agape at the sobering sight, wondering if their march across the plains to liberate this nation had been in vain.

  “What do we do now?” Aaron asked in dismay.

  “We will visit the King,” William replied, remembering how he had fled from Arileez rather than confronting him in the cabin. He vowed not to run away again in the face of danger. “Now is not the time to be faint of heart. If I am to die here today, I’d just as soon do it standing beside King Basil rather than cowering in his estate.”

  Aaron stood tall and looked him in the eyes. “As would I, so I’ll follow you to the King’s tent.”

  “And I shall return to the battle,” Ramsey said. “I’ve tarried here long enough and will ride back before Eucádus and King Cedric think I have deserted them.” He shook hands with William and Aaron and told them that it was his greatest wish that he should see the two of them alive and well again before the day was done. “But fate and a skillfully wielded sword will decide that, so until then, I must be off. Watch them closely, Yurris.”

  “I guarantee it, sir,” he replied.

  Ramsey mounted his steed and trotted out the front gate, galloping down the field like the wind itself. William climbed on his horse shortly after, with Aaron sitting behind him. They followed Yurris to the outer road and across the field to King Basil’s tent, wondering if the lands of Laparia were about to fall into an abyss of death and despair.

  At that same moment, Ranen and Captain Silas looked on as the fleet of rafts moved down the lake closer to shore, contemplating their next move. Their battered forces were already spread thin, and any new effort, they feared, would at best be for show. They had had a realistic chance to defeat Drogin when dawn first broke, though the odds for victory were slim. But with these new arrivals, the arithmetic had shifted dramatically, and not in their favor.

  “They move like an army of ants toward the sand, docks and tall ships,” Silas remarked as he watched the rafts and fluttering flags with dread. “The day Drogin was born must have been cursed, infecting his mind and soul with a poison I cannot comprehend.”

  “And he has carried that scourge with him to this very hour,” Ranen replied, also mesmerized in a melancholy fashion by the small armada floating upon the choppy waters.

  “But we’ll fight to the end no matter what he throws at us,” Silas continued, his eyes still fixed upon the water as if trying to calculate any way imaginable to repel such an invincible force. He looked at his men as if they were his own brothers, offering a gentle smile wavering precariously between hope and resignation.

  “What have you decided, captain?” one of the younger soldiers asked while nervously drumming his fingertips on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

  “Though few in number, we will proudly meet the enemy on our shore and give them the fight of their lives,” he replied. “I see some of our allies now massing near the docks for their fight. Ours will be on the sandy strip over there.” He pointed to an open stretch of water well beyond the narrow, tree-lined ribbon of beach that they now occupied. “Others, I suppose, will join us when they can.”

  “If they can,” someone gravely commented. “The fighting has been horrific all through the city of Melinas from what reports I heard earlier near the c
ommon.”

  A grin spread across Ranen’s face. “Then let’s do something great to generate rumors of our own!” he exclaimed, energetically jabbing his finger in the air. “If others see us charging forth, regardless of the outcome, maybe we’ll strengthen their spirits and spur on our fellow soldiers during this last stand. Our labors must count for something when all is over, whether we live to see the results or not.”

  Ranen unsheathed his sword and raised it high in the air with an enthusiastic cry, persuading his comrades to do the same until a raucous explosion of voices rose above the trees and the gusting wind. The edges of their swords flashed in the sunlight, the metal tips clattering against one another in a deafening chorus. Soldiers engaged in skirmishes nearby on both sides of the conflict couldn’t help but hear the echoes of the rousing words floating upon the breeze and witness the energetic alliance of men celebrating near the trees. Their fellow countrymen took comfort from the scene while the enemy responded with silence, their thoughts laced with scorn and mockery as they anticipated an impending victory.

  “Onward!” Captain Silas ordered as his men gathered in loose formation behind him and Ranen, aiming their swords defiantly at their destination. “Let us reach the edge of the water before their first raft touches the sandy bottom. We’ll give them a welcome they will not soon forget!”

  They burst forward out of the thin tree shadows onto the warmer, open coastline, their voices rising to thunderous heights. They charged like angry bulls toward the water’s blue edge as mini explosions of sand erupted beneath the stampede of heavy, travel-worn boots buffeting the shore. With swords waving and spirits soaring, for a moment or two the men thought that they could take on every last soldier sailing upon the rafts despite their overwhelming numbers. Yet as they drew closer to the edge of Lake LaShear, traces of doubt burrowed into the minds and hearts of a handful of the men, momentarily weakening the bond between them. But every last warrior fought through the uncertainties and plowed onward to the white-crested waves slapping against the shoreline, triumphantly arriving at the water’s edge before the first raft had landed.