“I’ll have fitful bouts of sleep if I stay in there,” she said near the front door. “Still, I think Jagga’s last moments will haunt my dreams tonight regardless of where I sleep.”
“Experiencing pangs of guilt for taking that medallion to King Justin?” the wizard inquired. “It’s not easy having the fates of tens of thousands of beings on your conscience, even ones as unnatural as the Enâri.”
“I suppose it isn’t,” she said before trudging off to her wagon. She slowly turned around, her expression steady and confident. “But I don’t think I could have lived with myself either if I hadn’t brought the medallion to the Citadel. The fates of many innocents would have weighed more heavily on my mind if I did nothing.” She shrugged, offering a grim smile. “In the end, Caldurian, I suppose I shall get the sleep I deserve according to my actions. As you probably will, too,” she said, making for her wagon. “Goodnight. And pleasant dreams.”
After waking several hours later and eating a brief meal, they took to the road at noontime. They traveled near woodland stretches whenever possible, feeling a sense of security beneath the eaves of tall trees coming back to life. But the region seemed otherwise desolate. On rare occasions they spotted smoke rising from a distant chimney of an isolated household and avoided those areas altogether. They traveled northwest, following the course of the Drusala River several miles to their left. Depending on the elevation and openness of the terrain, they could view the dark, watery strip flowing through Kargoth like a deadly snake. But they preferred to keep closer to the mountains that gazed down upon them on their right.
They stopped for supper near a craggy rock formation upon a field littered with saplings and wild grass. As Carmella heated water for tea over a small fire, Caldurian glanced at her long, beige gloves and smiled in amusement.
“If I had my full powers, I could remove that silly pumpkin spell,” he said, his legs dangling from the large flat rock he sat upon. “No need to go chasing Madeline all around Laparia.”
“I told you that that wasn’t the only reason I’ve been pursuing her,” Carmella replied. “I want to draw her back to being the person she once was, however slim the chances. And one indication that I’ll have succeeded in that task is to get Liney to willingly lift her spell. In the meantime, I’ll endure the pumpkin hue.”
“Suit yourself, though the color does complement your cloak. And your wagon,” he added, glancing where the horses contentedly munched upon some grass. Suddenly he turned his head, listening for a subtle sound that had caught his attention. But other than the snapping flames or the cry of a distant bird, all was quiet.
“What is it?” Carmella asked.
“I thought I heard something,” he replied, his dark, brooding eyes scanning the terrain. Soon he relaxed and seemed at ease again. “Probably my imagination.”
“At least we know the Enâri aren’t stalking us,” she joked.
“I can’t imagine Vellan rebuilding that army after such a debilitating defeat. His only allies left are from the Isles and those citizens in the Northern Mountains he either duped or forced to drink from the Drusala.” Caldurian glanced about the area a second time. “I’m guessing that most of them have regrouped around Del Norác to await King Justin’s army. That is why our way through this section of Kargoth has been undisturbed. But as we near Vellan’s stronghold, our movements must be more discreet. I can’t assume anyone I meet on the road will show me the same loyalty that this loyal apprentice shows to Vellan,” he warned, pointing to himself.
Carmella looked up as the water began to steam. “Loyal apprentice? So your desire to meet with Vellan is simply to do his will and nothing more?”
“You ask that as if you doubt my intentions.”
“A little. You’ve suggested that you could do a far better job in his place,” she said. “Though for the life of me I can’t figure out what Vellan’s job in life is.”
“Yet you think that I believe I would be much more suited to the task.” Caldurian grinned. “Well, that’s one vote of confidence for me. But what do you think?”
Carmella gazed at the wizard through the veil of rising steam. “To be honest, I don’t think you would have been much different from Vellan despite the fact that you haven’t reached his level of ability in the magic arts nor possess your own Enâri army.”
“True. I’d never be able to create such a race of beings.”
“You would have recruited an army of your own. And even if your desire to defeat or enslave the kingdoms of Laparia might be a bit less ambitious than Vellan’s, you’d still be just as ruthless and determined ruling over whatever smaller slice of the region you carved out for yourself. Perhaps even more so.”
“Interesting,” he said, dropping to his feet and leaning against the rock. “I suppose that extra ruthlessness you assume I’d possess would be to make up for the fact that I’m not one of the true wizards from the Gable Mountains. Just a pale imitation at best?”
“Those are your words, Caldurian. But that’s not what intrigues me most.”
“Oh?” He folded his arms. “Go on. I want to hear more.”
Carmella stepped back from the steaming kettle and walked over to him, feeling more his equal than his student. “Since spending time with you lately–and most of it not unpleasant, mind you–I’ve often wondered if you would have turned out differently had you apprenticed with another wizard instead of Vellan.”
“Another teacher? I couldn’t imagine that,” he replied. “I met Vellan twenty-seven years ago when he was traveling through the Red Mountains near my village. I was nineteen, working on farms, chopping wood and harvesting ice depending on the season. But less than a year later he took me on as an apprentice after I helped him secure supplies and served as a messenger and gatherer of information while he spent time in the region. I gained his trust so much so that seven years after I met him, he had sent me off to Morrenwood to negotiate an alliance with King Justin.”
“And how did that work out?”
Caldurian grimaced. “That’s irrelevant. But as to your original remark–no. I couldn’t imagine having another teacher.”
“Perhaps you’re imagining the wrong type of teacher. Perhaps the wizard Frist?” Carmella suggested. “Where would you be now had your path and Frist’s crossed years ago and he had taken you on as an apprentice? Your fate would have been far different.” She looked up with grave concern. “The lives of many people would have been spared much death and hardship because Vellan wouldn’t have had you doing his dirty work.”
“He would have found somebody else to train and perform those same tasks,” Caldurian said. “I am not the only one who has fallen under his sway.”
“But your loyalty to him is unequaled–though Liney comes close.” Carmella hoisted herself upon the rock to sit, her feet dangling over the edge. “From my last impression when I talked to her, I’d say that you two are of the same mind. Liney oozed a chilly devotion to Vellan despite having rarely met with the wizard as you told me.”
“Anyone who meets Vellan is quite taken by his intellect and strength of personality, and is happy to do his will,” he replied. “Your cousin included. But if I had met Frist instead of Vellan, I suppose things might have turned out differently.”
“Well, now you’ve met me again,” Carmella said. “Maybe my good nature will rub off and turn you from your current path in life.”
Caldurian sighed. “My path is my path,” he said resignedly, staring straight ahead to avoid her probing gaze. “I’ve spent too much time in Vellan’s service to change on a whim now. His ideas have shaped my ideas.”
“But you’ve helped to train me, Caldurian, and I’m the enemy from your point of view,” she said, briefly catching his eye. “So you must have changed a little bit to want to associate with me.”
He looked kindly upon her and smiled. “We both know we’re with each other now because we are using each other–willingly, of course–and nothing more. I needed you to help
me escape and you need my expertise to find Madeline. I haven’t really changed except for suffering the effects of the âvin éska–and those, thankfully, are subsiding.”
Carmella eased herself off the rock and stood toe to toe with Caldurian, looking up with skepticism. “If you haven’t really changed, how do I know that you’ll keep your word and not turn me over to Vellan? Since I gave the medallion to King Justin, I think Vellan would be delighted to kill me or have me as his prisoner.”
“You have nothing to fear, Carmella. I promise to keep my word and help you find your cousin and avoid Vellan if I can. And though I probably won’t change much beyond that, consider this pledge my one attempt in life to perform a noble, selfless deed. I wouldn’t be here without your assistance, so I am in your debt and will repay you in full.”
“The old Caldurian would not have done this.”
“Hmmm, then perhaps I’ve changed a little. But I assure you, the change does not run deep.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get,” she replied. “And to show my appreciation, I promise not to turn you over to King Justin’s troops or his allies should the opportunity ever present itself.”
“I assumed we had a tacit understanding regarding that,” he replied with mock surprise. “Still, it’s good to hear you say it.”
“Just be careful you don’t get yourself in a fix if you go wandering,” she warned. “I won’t turn you in, but don’t expect me to jump to your rescue if it’ll stop me from reaching Del Norác. I’m still loyal to Arrondale and won’t betray my homeland to save your neck for anything–well, at least not a second time. Are we clear on that?”
“As clear as a starry sky. And I think that–”
Caldurian suddenly looked up and scanned the rock formation and the surrounding area. A sense of uneasiness overwhelmed him. Carmella took immediate notice.
“Again?” she asked warily.
Caldurian returned an uncertain gaze. “I feel as if eyes are upon us,” he whispered.
“Maybe the King’s scouts have taken up positions nearby.” She looked around with equal alarm but spotted no threat. “We should move on anyway and find a place to make camp for the night. We can see if this feeling persists while we’re traveling.”
The wizard agreed and they swiftly took to the road. The rock formation, now tinted in soft shades of red and gold from the setting sun, slowly receded in the distance. The stern and regal mountains looming to their right looked on, urging them forward in silent haste while standing guard amid seas of green foliage and narrow, winding valleys.
The air held a biting chill the following day. Though the sun shown brightly among a collage of swiftly moving clouds, the day felt more like late autumn than early spring.
“The weather has a mind of its own in the mountains,” the wizard said. “As we slowly rise in elevation, I wouldn’t be surprised to run into a blast of snow.”
Carmella fixed her eyes on the hard, grassy terrain. “We don’t need surprises on this trip. The solitude is nerve-racking enough.”
Shortly afterward they were greeted not with a surprise but with a stark reminder of recent events. Just ahead on an area flecked with small trees and scrub brush, lay a dark, bumpy line that first appeared to be a narrow stretch of soil that had been dug up and left to the elements. But as Carmella’s wagon rolled past the curious sight, she and the wizard recognized the composition of the slightly wavering trail alongside them. They stopped and climbed down to take a closer look.
“How many?” Carmella asked, gazing upon a pair of boots and a pile of ragged clothes. One of the boots, standing upright and once filled with the sandy remains of an Enâri creature, was now packed to the ankle with globs of wet mud resulting from the melted snow and early spring rains that had swept through the valley.
“Fifty pairs or so,” Caldurian replied as he surveyed the path of mud-caked boots, tattered clothing, leather belts and sheathed daggers. “Perhaps they were marching to Del Norác, though most likely to one of Vellan’s nearby garrisons which are probably now abandoned.” The wizard cast a grim eye upon Carmella. “None of them ever knew that death was heading their way.”
Carmella sighed, recalling Jagga’s last moments. “I can assure you that it was a complete surprise to all.”
“There’ll be ghoulish exhibits like this throughout Kargoth.” Caldurian walked among the solemn display of footwear and weaponry, gently moving a boot here and there with the tip of his own. Any sandy remains of the Enâri, other than what was left behind inside some of the boots, had long ago been washed away and reabsorbed into the soil.
“We should go,” Carmella said uncomfortably. “I don’t want to linger here.”
“You of all people wouldn’t,” he said, turning around amidst the morbid remnants. But when noting the distress on her face, he apologized. “I didn’t mean for that to sound crass. I was just–”
She raised a hand to gently silence him. “No offense taken.”
The wizard walked toward her. “You’re right. We should leave. There’s still a long way to go today and I don’t want to–”
He stopped in mid sentence, eyeing one particular pair of boots that grabbed his attention. He stooped down to closely examine the items in the splashes of sunshine as the clouds sailed steadily eastward and cast uneasy shadows upon the rugged terrain.
“What is it?” Carmella asked.
Caldurian looked up with a stony expression, indicating the wagon with a turn of his head. “I’ll tell you when we’re moving again. Time to go.”
The stars and dual crescent moons blinked and faded behind tattered clouds. Cool breezes stirred the tips of creaking branches in the nearby woods. A fire snapped and sputtered close by, releasing a trail of ghostly smoke into the frosty air. Carmella and Caldurian sat huddled near the flames. A short distance away within the shadowy trees, someone kept watch over them.
An individual leaned protectively behind a gnarled pine, his eyes fixed upon the pair as they engaged in quiet conversation near the blaze. The spy curiously watched, unable to hear Carmella speak as she animatedly moved her hands. The wizard looked on thoughtfully, nodding from time to time, apparently on the receiving end of Carmella’s storytelling or a prolonged scolding–the spy couldn’t tell which.
What he did know, however, was that he needed to inch closer to gather information and learn the intentions of the two individuals before deciding his next move–whether to continue following them or flee in the opposite direction. He took a deep breath before stepping away from the tree, ready to act. But as he carefully moved one foot away and touched it to the ground, the sharp crack of a brittle twig reverberated through the woods. He froze in place.
With his heart racing, the man took another deep breath and listened closely. Something didn’t make sense. He pressed firmly on the foot he had just moved and felt only smooth, hard ground beneath the sole of his boot, suddenly aware that he wasn’t the one who had stepped on a twig. The man spun around, ready to bolt, only to face a large black shadow looming before him. The glint of the distant firelight reflected off a metal blade poised in front of him.
“Overheard anything interesting?” Caldurian asked, his voice stern and accusatory as he held a dagger threateningly in front of the man’s widening eyes.
The nervous figure involuntarily gulped. “I was just–” But he stopped talking as the wizard’s voice fully registered in his ears. “Caldurian? How–? How did you–?” The man slowly turned his head and observed the flickering fire just outside the woods, noting that Carmella and the other Caldurian were still sitting there as before with Carmella speaking and the wizard nodding at each sentence with deliberate interest. The spy looked back upon Caldurian’s menacing form and deadly weapon, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Two of you?” he asked. “How can that be?”
“I’m a wizard, and a good one at that–or have you already forgotten, Mune? I have many intriguing spells up my cloak sleeves.” Caldurian sheathed his knife
and looked upon Mune with a vague smirk. “Now quit standing there with that silly expression. Follow me to the fire. It’s murderously cold out here.”
“All right,” he replied as if trapped in a confusing dream.
Moments later, Carmella turned her head as she sat by the crackling blaze warming her hands. Her eyebrows slowly arched when she saw Caldurian emerge from the trees and stroll toward her. A short man with a goatee and bundled in a weathered coat walked beside him. When they stepped into the firelight, she immediately recognized Mune as the individual who had run out of the Blue Citadel while she was arguing with her cousin.
“You!” she said with contempt.
“Yes, me,” Mune replied, remembering Carmella from that same moment. But all the while, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the second Caldurian who sat by the fire on a small wood crate, nodding occasionally as he looked intently in Carmella’s direction while remaining absolutely quiet. “Your twin?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing but a smoke illusion.” Caldurian walked over to his three-dimensional double. He rapidly waved a hand several times through the faux wizard until the creation lost its cohesion and disintegrated before their eyes.
“Impressive.”
“Carmella and I created it together,” he said. “She’s becoming quite adept in the magic arts thanks to a bit of training from me.”
“Just like her cousin,” Mune remarked. “But less edgy I hope. You’ll have to tell me how the two of you became fast friends.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Carmella said. “But first tell me about Liney. Seeing that you’re here, can I assume that her plan to seek an audience with Vellan didn’t work out?” she asked hopefully, looking about. “Where is she? Hiding in the trees?”
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 156
