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

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “Then do what you must do,” Megan said with a supportive smile, though unable to completely hide the gloom upon her heart. She glanced at Hobin, his tall frame, weathered coat and aqua-colored eyes exuding an air of quiet confidence that gave her comfort and peace of mind. “Please keep a sharp eye on Leo and Carmella for me, if I may ask such a favor.”

  “You may, Princess Megan, and I will,” he replied. “After all the courtesy shown to me by your grandfather and so many others during my stay in the Citadel, it’s the least I can do.”

  “King Justin was impressed with the maps you created for his library,” Leo said.

  “Those were only preliminary works, drawn after a few short hikes through the Trent Hills. I’ll create better maps after this to-do in the south is resolved. Still, I shall bring my drawing supplies with me and make sketches in the Northern Mountains. I hear they’re magnificent. Perhaps I can return there in peaceful times.”

  “Oh, I do hope for that–the peaceful times,” Megan said. At that moment there was some greater movement within the courtyard as an initial line of wagons and one company of soldiers slowly headed toward the main gates. Megan looked somberly at Leo.

  “Well, I think we should go now,” he softly said to her before glancing uneasily at Carmella and Hobin who understood that he wanted one last moment alone with Megan.

  “Goodbye, Megan,” Carmella said with a brief yet hopeful smile before turning and walking off to her wagon.

  “Thank you again, Princess Megan,” Hobin added with a slight bow of his head. He donned his hood and followed Carmella to where his and Leo’s horses were tied up near her wagon.

  Leo looked into Megan’s eyes, noting the fear and sadness swirling within their depths and wishing he could ease her pain. But he knew all too well that every step toward Kargoth he was about to take was the very cause of that pain.

  “You’re not to blame for my distress,” Megan told him as if she could read his mind. She kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “I will be strong like a princess is supposed to be and stop acting like a fussy child. I know you’ll return to me. After all, I won’t let you back out of your promise to marry me that easily.”

  “Not to worry,” Leo said. “That’s one promise I promise to keep.” He took her in his arms and kissed her long and lovingly near the hedges as several eyes throughout the courtyard watched with elated discretion.

  A short time later, a crowd of locals gathered near the front gate to see off the last of the army. Megan stood with them, though feeling alone as she watched Leo, Carmella and Hobin slowly disappear down the road and out of her life. She observed with sadness and longing, her right hand tightly clenched yet lovingly held to her chest. Secure within her fingers was the pair of interlocking silver and copper rings hanging from the delicate chain around her neck that Leo had given her in the snowy courtyard garden.

  CHAPTER 93

  The Road to Drumaya

  The long road to Drumaya brought back painful memories for Prince William. He felt his brother’s presence in the cool air as the armies of Arrondale and Montavia trekked southward. On the third morning of their journey, he rode alongside his grandfather, King Rowan. With them was Captain Grayling of Morrenwood who had helped rescue the King and William’s mother from their Enâri captors over two months ago. The sun reflected off the dark waters of the Pine River whose course they now followed, and upon the thin crust of snow coating the fields on either side with diamond-like brilliance.

  “I’m glad Brendan and I spent those days together on the road,” William said, his eyes fixed upon the soldiers and supply lines moving in front. “I enjoyed talking and joking about whatever came to mind–even though I’m the better joke teller,” he boasted as the sun highlighted his thick blond hair. A hooded, brown cloak hung from his shoulders.

  King Rowan smiled. “I’m also glad you shared that special time even though you tricked King Justin to get permission.”

  “Yes, there was that,” he admitted with amusement.

  “The open road allows for such camaraderie among friends,” Captain Grayling said. “And though I’ve heard you speak of some competitiveness between you and your brother while growing up, I’ll wager that you both enjoyed a solid friendship even if it was an unspoken one at times. But that is natural among young brothers as I can attest to with my own.”

  William sighed wistfully. “Brendan was not only my brother, Captain Grayling, but my future king whom I would have happily served. Not that I was in any hurry for you to vacate your position, Grandfather,” he added with a playful glance at the King. “But you both must understand what I mean. Brendan was older and smarter than I and more suited to such a station many years down the road.”

  “And now you see that once-imagined future for yourself–ruler of Montavia, only without a brother to lean on,” his grandfather replied. “And because we ride to war, the possibility of such an outcome probably worries you even more.” The young prince simply shrugged in reply. “Well rest assured, William, that I will make every effort to avoid the swipe of a sharp sword or a well-aimed arrow.”

  “Avoid even the stray ones, too,” he said.

  “I’ll try my best,” the King replied with an affectionate smile as he gazed southward across the sea of soldiers.

  The snowy tips of the Red Mountains and the vast waters of Lake Lasko were still about two days away. King Rowan knew that bitter memories would be dredged up for his grandson the farther south they traveled. Yet being here with him, he hoped that sharing in William’s grief would help ease it, though the anguish and heartache would always be a part of his grandson’s life until the end of his days.

  “I wish I had been a better fighter when Brendan and I–”

  King Rowan stopped him in mid sentence. “And I wish I had been there to save you both. But life unfolded as it did. So do not linger in that dark corner of your mind, at least not as we prepare for our next task.” He glanced at William with a reassuring smile. “Fortify yourself with more wholesome memories for strength and protection in the fight ahead. The bleak ones will still be there when our job is done. I know of what I speak.”

  “Understood,” he replied as memories of his deceased father surfaced in his mind, guessing that his grandfather was sharing similar thoughts. As he lightly clutched Lester’s reins, William suddenly thought about Brendan’s horse and fondly wondered how Chestnut was faring under Eucádus’ care. He couldn’t wait to see them both.

  Late the following morning, clouds moved in from the west, creating an ominous, charcoal gray sketch against the horizon. As the wind picked up strength, King Justin scowled beneath his hood, imagining his troops doing the same. The air had turned damp and cold in the last few hours. The miles of hard road were peppered with ruts and dried weeds. The soldiers on foot kept to the uneven terrain on either side of the road, allowing the supply wagons the easier course. Moments later though, all were reduced to a near standstill as large, wet snowflakes fell in a wind-whipped slant, reducing the army to a crawl.

  “Maybe those scouts want to revise their weather reports,” one soldier muttered to another as he held the tip of his hood to keep the wind from filling it like a ship’s sail. He adjusted the heavy pack on his back with a few jerking motions of his shoulders while he trudged blindly forward, thinking about the warmth of his tent when he had been encamped in the field near the Blue Citadel.

  “Maybe Vellan will have a kettle of hot soup waiting for you,” his friend remarked with a snicker.

  “And maybe I’ll throw you in the Drusala River when we get there,” he replied. “Then you can willingly serve Vellan his meals and scrub his floors.”

  “At least I’d be warm,” he said as the snowflakes pummeled his cheeks. “I don’t think we’ll be building a fire any time soon.”

  “I suppose not,” the other miserably replied, bowing his chin to his chest.

  But the line moved sluggishly and silently onward. More and more gray clouds sailed o
verhead as if winter were only beginning and not near its end.

  Spirits lifted when the snow suddenly stopped two hours later and the sun peeked out through breaks in the thinning clouds. Cheering broke out among the troops as the day brightened and warmed. Hoods were removed and coats unbuttoned as boots and wagon wheels plowed onward through a coating of slush that now carpeted the countryside. King Justin, riding alongside Tolapari, noted his cheerful expression.

  “Why so happy?” he asked with exaggerated gruffness. “Our cloaks are wet and heavy and my horse seems determined to pick out the most uncomfortable path on this dreadful thoroughfare.”

  “Despite the inclement weather, I’m enjoying a moment of contentment that it is all finally underway. We are at last heading to Kargoth to lance a boil that’s been festering on Laparia for fifty years.” The wizard shook the melting snowflakes from his unruly hair. “I choose to see that as a success and want to enjoy it before the ordeal begins.” He glanced at the King. “And don’t worry about the weather. You made the right decision to leave Morrenwood early. It is still nine days to spring. Winter is simply having a last laugh on its way out, so cheer up, Justin.”

  “A cup of hot tea would go a long way toward that end,” he replied as the sun neared the noon position and burned away more of the tattered clouds. “I think I shall have one when we stop for lunch. I’ll allow for fires and an extended meal today to give everyone a chance to dry off. We can’t have the men so miserable at the front end of this journey that they’ll lose heart by the end.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Tolapari replied, his eyes forward. “And Megan, I’m sure, is fine under Nedry’s supervision. So you needn’t overly worry about her either.”

  “You’ve sensed that, too?” A slight grunt accompanied the King’s smile. “Very well then. Overly is out. I’ll keep my worrying between regularly and often, if you don’t mind. But this grandfather does have eyes. I see the love blossoming between Megan and Leo. Still, I couldn’t ask the young man not to accompany us, even for Megan’s sake.” King Justin breathed in the late-winter air and sighed. “She will be devastated should anything happen to him.”

  “We’ll keep an extra careful watch over Leo as danger nears, though he needn’t dash out onto the battlefield to prove himself,” Tolapari said. “Leo is a capable scout as he demonstrated in the Dunn Hills. Anyway, the services of many scouts will be needed the closer we get to Del Norác. Leo, with Hobin at his side, could be sent out on one of the less precarious missions,” he suggested. “A quiet word by me to a few of your captains will do the trick.”

  “But I don’t want it to be obvious to Leo that he’s being protected.” King Justin shook his head. “You had better say nothing. I’ll let this play out as it will and make my decisions accordingly. I don’t want to sully a future relationship with the possible husband of my granddaughter. Oh, I would never hear the end of it!” he said, tiredly massaging his forehead.

  “I think Leo would quietly accept your decision. He respects you too much.”

  “I was referring to Megan.”

  “Ahhh…” the wizard replied. “Then perhaps your decision is the right one after all.” He glanced at the King. “But do you actually know something regarding their future?”

  “No, no,” he said. “Just speculating. But as I’ve never seen Megan so enthralled with one of her previous suitors before…” The King softly chuckled. “It’s funny to think that she found Leo because I had sent her away to Boros for safekeeping.”

  “Funny indeed. But if you hadn’t, then Princess Megan and her newfound friends would never have met Carmella and brought her and the medallion to the Citadel. Think where we’d be right now if that little episode had never played out.”

  King Justin nodded, never having thought about it that way. “I guess my apprehensions about Megan’s safety paid off in the end if you look at the grand tapestry of life. That puts a new slant on things, doesn’t it, Tolapari?” he asked with a relaxed smile.

  “Certainly on your disposition,” he replied.

  “Very good then. I’m glad we had this conversation.” He sat up straighter in his saddle, his shoulders back, savoring the mix of cool air and warm sunshine brushing gently upon his face. “Now that I’m feeling better, perhaps we’ll even take time for a second cup of tea at lunch. What do you say?”

  By early afternoon the next day, the road brought them into the shadow of the Red Mountains looming to their right with silent majesty. It was one of the smaller mountain chains in Laparia and cradled the western shores of Lake Lasko. Its darkened peaks rose proudly in the sunshine that highlighted patches of white snow upon each of its summits. The woods, fields, rivulets and dozens of villages in the surrounding region were on the verge of waking from winter’s slumber. As dusk deepened a few hours later, the front lines reached the lapping waves on the northern shores of Lake Lasko, a welcomed sight to eyes grown weary of barren surroundings and ears yearning to hear more than thin breezes sweeping across brittle grasses.

  The army encamped in a large field close to the shoreline. The troops scouted for driftwood, built bonfires and cast their lines for delicious lake trout for a late dinner. As Kings Justin and Rowan made their separate rounds of the settlement, both detected a holiday atmosphere among the soldiers. Arriving here marked a natural end to the first leg of their journey, putting most in a celebratory mood. King Justin was pleased with the state of morale after five days on the road, reassured that he had made the correct decision to leave before spring had arrived. The sounds of laughter among the crackling flames up and down the shoreline bolstered his spirit, giving him an insight into his soldiers’ current state of mind. He realized he still had their full support and let them enjoy their time on the water’s edge. Later, though, when he saw William sitting alone on a rock picking at a plate of roasted fish outside a circle of firelight, the King saw that one individual was not sharing the others’ enthusiasm. And he already knew why without having to ask.

  They were nearing the village of Parma where Brendan and William had met the wizard Arileez disguised in human form and using the name Sorli. The King correctly guessed that foul memories of that night were occupying William’s thoughts as he brooded over his meal. King Justin recalled their conversation about that incident while sitting in King Basil’s garden overlooking Lake LaShear. He debated whether to join William and talk to him about it again, but decided to leave the boy alone with his thoughts so he could perhaps draw strength from his meditation. Instead, he sought out a group of soldiers gathered around the next fire, simply acknowledging William with a pat on his shoulder as he walked past the boy who sat cloaked in a mass of inky shadows.

  They traveled along the western shore of Lake Lasko the next day, passing through Parma as evening approached. But William, still in a melancholy state, never caught sight of the Silver Trout, the inn where he and Brendan had dined with Sorli. Most of the army units traversed nearby fields and minor roads to the west while the supply lines kept to the main thoroughfare, passing by the inn and groups of curious spectators. King Rowan thought it just as well that his grandson had avoided seeing the establishment. He mentioned it to King Justin as they guided their horses along a dusky road beneath the budding stars. The Fox and Bear moons were at varying positions beneath the eastern horizon, each still a few hours from rising.

  “William has kept to himself all day, Justin, acting gloomy and distant. But I thought it best to leave him alone with his mood.”

  “I did the same when I saw him eating by himself last night,” King Justin replied. “His troubled demeanor at being back in this region is only natural, I suppose.”

  “I agree. He has taken his brother’s death hard, and despite the passing of winter, the events are still fresh in his mind,” King Rowan said. “I see traces of his mother’s temperament in him. Vilna was devastated by the news of Brendan’s death. I don’t know if she’ll ever smile again or fully enjoy life at Red Lodge.”

&
nbsp; The King gazed into the growing shadows, looking forward to stopping for the night. He was dead tired and wondered if William would enjoy a good night’s rest as well. That same worry lingered in his mind later as he lay upon the ground bundled in a blanket until a deep and fitful sleep overwhelmed him. But when King Rowan happened upon his grandson the following morning having breakfast with Leo, Carmella and Hobin, he happily noted that the young man was laughing with his friends and in fine spirits, having apparently worked through any grief that had recently tormented him. The King was delighted that William seemed his old self again and left him with a reassuring smile to enjoy his meal with the others.

  “Your grandfather seems in a good mood this morning,” Carmella noted a few moments later. She and the others sat around a crackling fire near her enclosed wagon amid a sea of encampments spread across a large field. Patches of snow were visible upon the withered remains of grass, weeds and scrub brush left over from autumn. Wisps of fog lingered near the ground and wrapped around a scattering of tree trunks as gray and blue tendrils of wood smoke rose high into the air to greet the new morning upon a freshening breeze.

  “He’s happy with the progress we’ve made, as is King Justin,” William said while adding a few twigs to the snapping flames. “Grandfather has kept me apprised on some of the discussions he’s had with King Justin and Prince Gregory. If we can reach Grantwick without any major weather delays, they all feel we should have little to worry about during our march beyond there.”

  “Until we reach Kargoth,” Leo remarked. “Who knows what the weather will be as we head into the mountains along the river?”

  He sat bundled in his wool coat, the hood of which was flopped over his head already topped with a knitted cap. He cradled a mug of steaming tea in his hands to fend of the morning chill that burrowed determinedly into his body. Ever since he had been overwhelmed by the spirit in the Citadel’s upper room, Leo felt sensitive to cooler temperatures, something that had never bothered him before. The lingering chills he experienced from time to time reminded him of the cold, lifelessness exuded from the invisible specter that nearly suffocated him upon opening the Spirit Box. He longed for the soothing warmth of spring to truly take hold.