Norton, Andre - Anthology

by Magic in Ithkar 04 (v1. 0)

  "No," Marcus said with a sigh. "Would that I were. Then I might know how to break this spell. I am a mere nobleman, foolish enough to attempt a wizard's job." Eliana relaxed again.

  "I own a fleet of sailing ships," the mouth went on, "and of late my captains have been complaining of tainted goods. Whatever spells are cast on the provisions are so well hidden that they escape notice while still in Ithkar. It is only after the ships are well away that the spells fall off and the bread grows quickly moldy, the salt fish rancid. Even the crewmen's clothing develops rents and faded colors."

  "So, nobleman wizard, how did you find the good Harad's wares?" Eliana asked with a smile.

  "You know well what I found in that shop," Marcus replied. "You easily separated the good coats from the bad, although I can't imagine how with just a touch. It was only after I entered my cloak that I saw clearly which of the clothier's goods was true to its outward appearance. You? must be a witch as well as a fish dealer, for that was no ordinary magic.”

  Eliana laughed. "My mother was a witch, so they say. She's long dead, but I still carry a few of her skills. I can usually tell honest wares by their touch. I could not be sure Harad's coats were spelled, for as you say, the magic in them was strange. But I knew something was not aright."

  "Aye. Indeed," said Marcus. "The magic used to alter those goods was brought from afar, perhaps even by way of the Thotharn priests. I know little of such things, but I heard Talmont speak of it when he and his companion entered the tent."

  "Talmont! Captain Sturming's first mate?"

  "Aye, the same."

  "But Talmont was taking the captain to Harad's tent this very day. Could the first mate be one of those responsible for the tainted supplies aboard your ships?" Suddenly Eliana caught her breath, realizing what she was saying. "Is the Alakai one of your vessels?"

  "Aye. And aye," replied the mouth.

  Eliana groaned at the unfairness of it all. First, she had acted like a fool before the Alakai’s captain, and now she held the ship's owner captive. Would this run of bad fortune never end?

  "Talmont and the others must be stopped before they do further harm," the mouth went on. "The temple priests and mages must be told of this new magic before it spreads too far to stop it. All of Ithkar might be at risk."

  Eliana sighed. Her bad luck had multiplied.

  Marcus was still for a moment, then asked, "Fishwoman?"

  Eliana remained silent, sunk in misery. With one hand, she picked at the crusted salt on a nearby barrel.

  "Won't you at least release my eyes?"

  Eliana started. "Why? So you can identify me later and cause me harm? You came into my possession by accident, nobleman, and now I must hold you captive for fear." She groaned again. "This is not how I intended this day to go."

  “How did you intend it?" he asked. The voice betrayed his impatience.

  "I was to buy a fine coat and present myself aboard the ship of my dreams," she said, suddenly angry enough not to care what the trapped nobleman heard. "I was to sell my fish and buy trade goods for the voyage to the Western Sea." She sagged against the post. "Instead, the ship's captain now thinks me a fool, and I have acquired a cape that talks and wants to see."

  "I mean you no harm, fishwoman," Marcus said. "I chose you deliberately to rescue me from the clothier's tent. For three days I lay there waiting for the right person to come along. I made myself ugly and uncomfortable for many a customer, as well as for Harad, before you entered his tent. I couldn't afford to be taken to some place where I might never escape."

  "Why did you choose me to carry you away?" Eliana asked.

  "Because of your smell," he said, then added quickly, "Do not take offense, fishwoman. I am a man of the sea, and I hoped you would bring me, if not to one of my own ships, then at least to the docks, where chance might provide an avenue of escape. From your touch I knew you to be an honest person." The tip of his tongue darted out to lick a sparkle of salt from his lower lip. "Though the feel of your man's clothing threw me a start."

  Eliana lifted the lid of a salt-fish barrel and removed a small menpachi. The fish's flesh was stiff, almost crisp, from the salting and drying process. She snapped a bit off the tail and nibbled on it as she listened to Marcus's tale.

  "I had gone to Harad's tent," he said, "because his goods had been used on one of the ill-fated voyages. There was no proof that he was responsible, but it seemed very likely. Like you, I have a way with magic at times. I can detect it by touch or by taste." He licked his lips again, and as Eliana crunched on another bite of menpachi, she wondered if the nobleman was hungry inside the cape.

  He went on, "At first I sensed nothing amiss with Harad's wares, save that they were exceedingly shoddy, much too poor in quality to serve my crews' needs. I was in the back of the tent, near the mirror, when I saw Talmont approaching. I was immediately wary, for I knew Captain Sturming was personally overseeing the supply purchases for his upcoming voyage, and there was no other reason for Talmont to come to that place.

  "Talmont entered the tent in the company of a second man, dressed in the clothes of a seaman but walking with the gait of one who's never known the sea. I turned away so he would not recognize me, and as soon as Harad's attention was turned, I slipped magically into my cape. I planned to listen to their conversation, and if they proved to be the evildoers, I would later change myself back and present my evidence to the priests.

  "Talmont introduced his companion as Griswain, a crewman from the Alakai, but I think he must have been a priest of the evil powers wearing a seaman's disguise. Harad said nothing. He only pointed to several piles of clothing, including the one on which my cloak had fallen. Griswain pointed his finger and mumbled some charm, and an instant's mist of magic surrounded me. His spell altered the coats near me, changing them so subtly that it was difficult to tell anything had happened, except that they all looked better than before."

  "What about you?" asked Eliana. "Are you really made of cheap cotton, faded and threadbare?" She hid a smile.

  The lips turned down at the edges in a pout. "Only the poor merchandise was affected by the evil priest's spell. I was not changed at all, except that the priest's spell and my own interacted somehow, and I became trapped inside the cape. Harad had thought me just an ordinary customer, so he had not been upset when he found me gone. But later, when he found my cloak, he mixed it with the other garments and attempted to sell it as his own rather than set it aside as any honest merchant would.

  “The magic being used there is evil, fishwoman, and thus far unknown to the Ithkar priests. I am sure of it, for it's that magic which prevents me from escaping this cape on my own."

  Eliana considered. If the cape spoke the truth, then she must indeed set the nobleman free, and quickly, so that the evil magic and its practitioners could be reported and brought under control. But what if the cape lied? She might risk all of Ithkar by releasing Marcus, if by chance he himself was the source of the evil.

  “I will give you your eyes," she said after a time. "But I will leave you in the cape until I can take you to a temple mage. You can tell your story to him."

  "Good enough," Marcus agreed readily. "It is all I can ask. But let us hurry."

  Eliana tore off another chunk of the menpachi's tough flesh and reached across the cape. She rubbed the salt-cured fish onto the place where the eyes should be. As she lifted her hand away, a line of dark lashes appeared. It was followed quickly by a second. The lashes fluttered, lifted, and Eliana found herself staring into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. They were like the sea when the water was deep and the sun high in the sky. The eyelids lowered, then blinked open again.

  "Why," the mouth said, sounding very surprised, "you're quite beautiful!"

  "Well, what did you expect?" Eliana replied tartly. "An old woman with the face of a fish?" She stood and lifted the cloak, swinging it to her shoulders so that the eyes could no longer peer into her own. "I will take you to the priests now," she snapped.
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  She thought perhaps her quick action had startled the nobleman, for he remained silent as she closed the shop and began walking quickly along the congested dock. Well, good enough, she decided. He had given her a start or two this day. She darted around a loaded pushcart, wrinkling her nose at the smell of day-old shellfish.

  "I knew you were not old," the cape whispered into her ear.

  She jumped, then adjusted the hood so that his lips were not so near her skin. She felt the cape chuckle.

  Suddenly, it tensed. The woolen fabric stiffened, then pulled itself about Eliana. Marcus's voice at the back of her neck urged her to hurry.

  "Talmont!" it whispered. "And Harad and the priest! They have seen us and are running to catch up. They must know who I am. But how can that be?"

  "I saw Talmont look strangely at the cape after the fish fell," Eliana said. "Maybe he saw your hand as I did. If he spoke of it to Harad, they could easily guess that someone was inside the cape, and that you might have overheard their plans."

  She glanced back just as Talmont thrust the shellfish wagon from his path. It overturned with a crash, splattering nearby merchants and dock workers. One man reached out to stop Griswain but jerked his hand back before it made contact. Eliana knew it was magic that had forced the man away. She could sense it from as far away as she stood. The false priest would never have used his evil spells openly if they did not know Marcus was in the cape. They ran toward her like desperate men.

  "Thief!" cried Harad. "Thief! She stole my cape!"

  "Thief, is it?" Eliana growled. "We'll see about that. Tell me how they follow," she instructed Marcus. She leapt across a guide rope and raced for the far side of the pier. As she ran, she let out a great shout: "Elianaaaaaaa!" Instantly, the shout was picked up across the docks, workers and vendors and children of all ages sounding their unified support. A lad in cutoff trousers appeared at Eliana's side.

  "Find Captain Stunning, off the Alakai," Eliana called to him as she ducked under a swinging beam. "Tell him Marcus is in danger. And there's magic afoot."

  “Aye," snapped the boy, and he darted away as quickly as he had appeared.

  Behind her, Eliana heard shouted curses and falling debris.

  "They're gaining on us, fishwoman," Marcus called. Then, "But no, a wagon has just blocked their path. And a flock of geese just escaped its cage. . ... Good fortune favors us this day, fishwoman. The accidents of the docks protect us."

  "It's friends who protect us, nobleman," she replied, "not accidents." The sound of her name still echoed along the pier. "We protect our own here on the wharfs. My cry alerted the others that outsiders were trying to cause harm. They won't interfere directly, but they will give us as much time as they can."

  Marcus let out a whoop. "A basket of fishcakes just fell from its rod. Talmont's gone splat in the mess they made." Then, suddenly, his voice grew silent. Eliana glanced behind and saw a flash of fire and black smoke. A child screamed in terror.

  The cape wrapped around Eliana's legs. "Stop," Marcus cried. "Take me off, fishwoman. I won't have your friends suffer from those evil men's magic when they do but protect my skin." Eliana ran on, fighting the entangling cape.

  "Give me to them," he called. "They will but destroy the cape. I will feel nothing. They don't know I have spoken to you, so you can pretend ignorance of my presence and go to the priests secretly later on. Give me to them, fishwoman, that they will stop their spell-laying upon your friends." Another crash and more screams sounded from behind.

  Eliana slipped into an alleyway between two storage stalls. "Stop trying to trip me," she called over her shoulder. "I'm taking you to the salt dealers, where I can throw you all at once into the cleaning vat. The brine will soak through the wool quickly and you will be released. Then at least you will be able to face your enemies as a man."

  "You are a fool, fishwoman."

  “Aye," she replied, fumbling with the cloak's neck clasp, still running full speed.

  "And I thank you."

  "Aye," she said.

  There was a shout from behind, and Eliana knew their pursuers were close. She jumped over a stack of woven wrappers and entered the salt dealer's stall. Still pulling at the stubborn clasp, she ran to the side of a large vat used to rinse the grime from salt wheels as they were offloaded from the ships.

  The vat was empty.

  A splash of wetness across the planking, leading from the empty pot to the edge of the pier, showed that the vat had been dumped just moments before.

  "Throw me in the river," Marcus cried. "The current's sluggish here. There should be enough brine left to negate the magic holding me captive."

  "The clasp is caught," Eliana replied. "It will not open."

  "Then jump!" he said. "Once the cloth is wet, I'll be free and can fight them off."

  "But—"

  "Jump!"

  "I cannot swim," wailed Eliana.

  The cape went limp; it immediately stopped urging her toward the water. Talmont's cry of triumph caused Eliana to turn back. The first mate and the priest were but yards from her, a gasping Harad close behind. Eliana could see other men running toward them, but they would never reach her in time to save Marcus.

  "What do you want?" she cried as she continued pulling at the clasp.

  Harad scowled. "Give me my cape, thief."

  "I bought this cape. It was part of our bargain."

  It was no use, the worn clasp would not open. There was only one way to wet the cape. She glanced behind her at the dark, deep river. The priest lifted a hand toward her, right forefinger outstretched. The evil intent of his movement slid like cold brine across Eliana's skin.

  “No," she heard Marcus call. "Do not harm the woman." She squeezed her eyes shut.

  And jumped.

  The river was cold; Eliana immediately felt its sting. The water tasted of salt. It wrapped around her like a living thing, and she spluttered and fought, caught in a terror greater than the power of the river itself. Suddenly, a hand fastened on her arm.

  "It's all right," she heard, or thought she heard. She kicked and scratched, trying to fight the river off. A second hand settled under her chin and pulled her to the surface.

  “It's all right," came the voice again. "Stop fighting or you'll drown us both."

  The cape! she thought suddenly. And Marcus! Suddenly she remembered what had brought her to this frigid, frightening place.

  "Talmont!"

  “We are safe," said the man holding her. There was laughter in his voice, and tremendous relief. “Look there, fishwoman, up on the pier. Your friends brought my captain, and he brought the fair priests. The evil magic has been controlled."

  Clutching Marcus tightly, Eliana opened her eyes. She looked first into the sea-blue eyes of the nobleman, then stared up at the dock. Two black-robed priests flanked Talmont and his companions. All five were surrounded by the pale silver mist of a powerful binding spell. Directly above her, Captain Sturming knelt on the salt-limed planking.

  “H-how did you g-get here so fast?" she stammered, coughing the last of the river from her lungs. “And how so w-well prepared?" She glanced again at the two priests.

  “I knew Marcus had gone to the clothiers before he disappeared, and I recognized his cape when I met you at your stall," said the captain. “That's why I asked you to my ship." He reached down to her. "When the lad came with your call, the priests and I were ready."

  Eliana grasped his hand and was pulled from the water. Shivering, she stood on the dock, hugging the sodden cloak around her shoulders.

  "Why do I always look the fool when I meet this man?" she muttered in misery. Marcus clambered up after her. He was far younger than she had expected, only a few years older than herself. His face formed a handsome frame for his sea-blue eyes.

  The captain laughed. "Madam, if I had a crew full of fools half so able as you, I'd open the western trade routes in no time."

  "Then perhaps you should hire her on," Marcus said. He shook his
head so that water sprayed them all. "I've heard it rumored this lady wishes to travel the traders' road. She's even bought a fine cape to keep her warm along the way." He met Eliana's startled look with a grin, then winked and added, "I might even join this voyage myself."

  Slowly, Eliana began to laugh. She brushed salty water from her nose and her chin and glanced across the harbor toward the ship of her dreams.

  "This is, indeed," she said, laughing, "a day of strange fortune."

  CAT AND MUSE

  Rose Wolf

  "Weave a circle round her thrice And close your eyes with holy dread .

  It's just my luck, thought Roswitha wryly and a little angrily too as she finished dusting the last of the shelves. It's just my bog-rotted, Lords-forsaken luck to be stuck behind this stand when the hue has just been raised for the greatest theft ever perpetrated at Ithkar Fair—and with these :lay cats, of all things!

  Setting aside the feather-frond duster, the girl squinted tier nearsighted scholar's eyes up the street in the dawning dimness to where, in a cross lane, an excited crowd—mob, nearly—shoved and shouted, thronging in the wake of a dozen fair-wards who carried their formidable bronze-shod staves at port arms with grim intent. When the greater part of the mass had moved on past, Roswitha returned her attention to the business at hand. She continued to catch faint cries from the thief-taking expedition as she raised the stall's gaudy icon-painted awning, tugged out the fatly up-bolstered curule chair into which Merchant Shallocq was wont to lower his fatly upholstered bulk, and raked the dirt inside the square formed by the three waist-high wooden partitions backed by the ware-display wall; but by the time the first customer arrived, the uproar had died completely away. Nevertheless, Roswitha's thoughts were with the chase as she made the transaction, and when she had wrapped the cheap cat statuette in a square of threadbare felt and chinked the buyer's copper into a chain-draped cashbox, she paused for a moment's speculation.

  Speculation? the little clerk thought to herself, and laughed softly. Say rather "peculation"!