by GJ Kelly
No doubt it was all his fault, Garin thought hopelessly as the tears brimmed over and began to soak the sleeves of his robes. Eyan had gone. The staff had been lost. They were trapped and at the mercy of a spiteful king and his servant Wizard Kazar, probably the most powerful wizard in the land. And it was all Garin’s fault. If he’d only told Drake and Taya the truth about himself, if only Drake hadn’t believed so strongly that Garin could wave away the troubles of a wicked world with careless flick of a hand and some mumbled words…
“Hello?”
Taya stopped sobbing, though Garin could hear her sniffling quietly in Drake’s arms.
“Hello?” came the voice again, stronger this time, and seeming to come from not very far away.
“Who’s that?” Drake rumbled. “Show yourself!”
“I can’t. I’m locked in. Who are you?” a man’s voice called quietly and confidently in spite of the cold, dark and clammy surroundings.
“Who are you to ask who we are?” Drake called back suspiciously. “If you’re one of Wizard Kazar’s men, then by Cordak I swear, me and Felgardin will make you pay for this outrage!”
“There’s more than one of you?” the man called. “You, and this Felgardin?”
Drake’s mouth moved like a fish gasping for breath on dry land. “Felgardin’s my sword!” he spluttered, “And if the king’s or wizard’s man you be, you’ll meet Felgardin soon enough!”
It was quiet for a moment. Then they heard a sigh. “I am Peiter.” The voice said softly. “I am Peiter…” and then it trailed off.
“You’re mad,” Drake spluttered. “We just saw the king, more’s the pity. That’s how we ended up in this miserable dungeon.”
“You saw Jervais, my cousin. I am Peiter, great grandson of Othel, King of Kings. I’ve been in this dungeon for weeks…” the voice cracked, as if the speaker were choking back a sob, and then continued, stronger than before. “I’ve seen no-one, spoken to no-one, except the Wizard Kazar who imprisoned me here. Who are you? Please, tell me who you are, are you friends, or are you enemies sent by Wizard Kazar to torment me?”
“Well,” Drake sighed, “I dunno if you’re mad or not, or if you’re king or not. But I’ll say this much. Friends of the king we ain’t, by Cordak, and friends of the Wizard Kazar we ain’t either! My name’s Drake. Rydan Drake, warrior of Jarak. With me is the young missy, Taya, of Portsan. And with us, though now without his staff, Master Wizard Garin, also of Portsan.”
“Did you say Eyan?” the man called and it held a snarl of dislike, “Eyan, Master Wizard of Portsan?”
“No.” Garin answered softly. “Garin. Eyan has gone to Mount Renga.”
“Oh, he might actually have been some use for once,” came the disappointed reply. And Garin felt suddenly alone again.
“Do you think he’s mad?” Drake whispered as best he could, but the whisper echoed around the dungeon.
“I’m not mad!” the man protested. “I tell you, I am Peiter! It’s Jervais, son of Mordran, who sits on the throne in my place! If not for the fact that the crown of kings is enchanted by Eyan’s magic, he would be wearing it now, and ruling all the kingdoms with that evil Wizard Kazar by his side. He is third in line for the crown in the North Kingdom and decided to take mine for his own.”
“You don’t sound like a king,” Drake protested.
“You don’t sound like a warrior,” the king replied.
“What do you mean I don’t sound like a warrior?” Drake bellowed.
“Well,” King Peiter conceded. “Perhaps you do. But with you in that cell, and me in mine, who’s to tell who’s mad and who isn’t. Sometimes I think I must be.”
“Why?” Garin asked quietly, frowning.
“Because I could have avoided all this. When Wizard Kazar came to me with Jervais a few weeks ago, he showed me his great powers. He told me that if I would agree to his plans, he would spare me and my people. I refused. Ever since then, I’ve been here in this dungeon. Once in a while Wizard Kazar comes or sends his vile messenger, to see if I’ve changed my mind.”
“His messenger?” Taya sniffed.
“Is that a lady?” the king gasped. “He has sent a lady to this dungeon?”
“No,” Drake said seriously, “that’s just Taya. I told you, she’s from Portsan.”
Taya gasped and pushed herself away from the big warrior.
“What?” Drake protested, “What’s wrong now?”
Garin smiled sadly and shook his head. Sometimes Drake could be a complete idiot without even knowing.
“Wizard Kazar’s messenger is a bird. Every wizard has a familiar, to perform tasks such as the carriage of messages, aid in spell work, for companionship, and to guard and protect the wizard. Wizard Kazar prefers for his to be in the form of a bird. He calls it Ignor, a great vile thing. Black and white, with purple streaks upon its wings. It comes to the barred grating high above me and looks down at me for a sign that I’ll comply with Wizard Kazar’s wishes.”
“So it wasn’t always a bird?” Garin asked.
“No, he was once just like you or me,” the king replied with a sigh.
Garin frowned. His master had never had a familiar as far as he knew, but he’d only been with him for five years, so perhaps he used to? He sat back against the wall and felt the backpack pressing against him. He still had it, and he remembered the feather tucked away in one of its folds.
“What does this Wizard Kazar want then, if you really are the king?” Taya asked, her tears forgotten as she stared angrily at a bemused Drake.
“It’s simple really. Jervais can never wear the crown of kings, not as long as Eyan’s magic holds. But as the rightful king, I can. Wizard Kazar wants me to appear in public just long enough to be crowned then I’ll be set free.”
“Hah, set free? Head chopped off or stuck down here for the rest of your life more like,” Drake announced.
“I know. I wouldn’t trust Wizard Kazar as far as I could throw my horse. That’s why I haven’t agreed. The trouble is that the time is drawing near for the coronation. The people, not to mention the other kings, will soon expect Jervais to wear the crown of kings. If he tries it while Eyan’s magic still binds the crown, then…”
“Then he’ll be turned into a frog. Or something much worse,” Drake finished. “We’ve heard the stories.”
“Doesn’t anyone know you’re here?” Taya asked.
“No-one.”
“But, surely you’re missed?” Taya insisted. “How can a king disappear without anyone noticing?”
“Wizard Kazar,” King Peiter replied sadly. “With his magic he has fooled everyone into believing that Jervais is truly me.”
“What about the guards here?” Drake rumbled. “Are they all loyal to this Jervais then?”
“There are no guards, Warrior,” the king said with a sigh. “Only the old jailer. He comes once every few days to replace the candles and to bring food. When he remembers.”
“When he remembers?” Taya gasped fearfully, and eyed the guttering candles nervously. They were only a few inches high.
Nobody spoke for a short time and Garin began to pace the cell. As he reached the barred entrance the candles began to waver and the air became thick with a green mist.
“Wizard Kazar comes…” came a call from the next cell. “Keep back.”
The mist faded and the white robed Wizard Kazar stood before the cell bars. He looked briefly in at Garin before stepping in front of King Peiter.
“I’ve come to offer you one last chance to join us. Rule with us and I will set you free.” Wizard Kazar spoke as if he didn’t really care if the uncrowned king joined them or not.
“Never,” the king replied instantly. “You do not wish to rule in peace. I do not know your plans but they will not be honourable ones. I will not rule with a wizard telling me what to do.”
“As you wish. Thanks to your new neighbours I have no need of you,” Wizard Kazar said with a laugh that echoed around the small dun
geon. Wizard Kazar moved over to where Garin was watching and it was then that Garin saw the black and white bird perched on the wizard’s shoulder. “I just wanted to thank you once again for coming to the castle.”
With another bark of laughter the green mist rose around Wizard Kazar and he was gone.
“What did you do to the crown?” King Peiter demanded angrily.
“Nothing,” Garin replied, confusion making him frown deeply. What could he have done that would make the king not needed?
“If you are in league with him…” the king yelled.
“I’m not, believe me,” Garin said with a sigh and King Peiter fell silent.
They all sat quietly, obviously wondering if they would be left there for ever.
“Well,” Garin sighed, leaning forward and pulling off his backpack. “At least we won’t starve.” He reached into the pack and drew out some of the dried fish and preserves packed so long ago in Portsan.
“Hah!” Drake cried, jumping to his feet. “Hah!”
“What is it?” the king’s voice demanded, excitedly.
“Well now, Your Majesty, if that’s what ye be, I’ve good news for you!” Drake beamed happily. “Master Wizard Garin has done it again! A miracle, and this time without his magic twig! Now, if you can produce a key to this door, Master Garin, we’ll have us and the king out in a jiffy, and we’ll boot this Wizard Kazar’s backside to the moon and yonder!”
***
“I keep telling you, Drake, it wasn’t magic.” Garin protested later, fiddling nervously with the purple feather while Drake beamed happily. “I was wearing the backpack when Wizard Kazar chanted us here, that’s all.”
“And made it produce food, just when I was getting peckish,” Drake insisted, wiping crumbs from his lips with the back of his hand.
“It’s just some dried fish that I packed back in Portsan. You remember? Taya brought it the night before we left.”
“So says you.” Drake winked. “Now, if you’ll, uhm,” Drake pointed at the iron door, “you know?”
“Drake,” Taya huffed. “He’s trying to tell you something. He’s not a real wizard.”
“Now look, missy…” Drake began, looking stern. But Taya leapt to her feet, and cut him off, jabbing a finger into his chest and driving him back across the cell as she spoke.
“He’s not a real wizard! Do you know what we used to call him in Portsan? Do you? The Apprentice Fool. The Wizard’s Walking-Stick, that’s what we used to call him!
“Do you have any idea how many times the Apprentice Fool set fire to Eyan’s cottage? Do you? Dozens. Once, during the summer fayre when the whole village was dancing and enjoying the sunshine, do you know what happened? The Mayor’s house burst into flames. And why? Because the Apprentice Fool thought it would be nice to make the climbing roses yellow instead of red…”
Garin flushed, remembering all the dreadful failures. A knot of shame and rage seemed to tighten in his stomach and he shut his eyes, desperately trying not to hear the words streaming from Taya's lips…
“…and then there was the ointment he made to treat a rope-burn on Captain Hared’s leg. Within moments of applying it, all the Captain’s hair fell out. All of it, including his beard and the hair on his chest and legs. And this is the Master Wizard you’re so fond of, Garin the Great, the Wizard of Portsan! The Apprentice Fool you’re following in the name of Duty!”
“But missy…” Drake spluttered, dazed in face of her assault.
“Don’t ‘but missy’ me!” Taya cried, tears streaming afresh down her face, “Do you know how hard my father and brothers have to work for their catch? Do you know how hard it is to go cap in hand to the Wizard's Walking-Stick just for some miserable lamp-oil so my grandfather can find enough peace to sleep? Do you?”
Something seemed to break deep inside Garin as he sat clutching the feather. He remembered all the taunts, jibes and insults ever hurled at him. All he’d ever done was try to help the poor folk of Portsan and all he ever received was sniggers, sneers and cruel jokes. And now, here in the dark misery of the dungeon, there was more…
“…where was your Great Garin when the king or Jervais or whatever his name is was ordering his lackey to punish me? Where was Garin the Great with his all-powerful staff then?” Taya demanded.
Drake stared down at Garin and blinked, and then stared back at Taya. Garin opened his eyes and looked up at the warrior. Suddenly, Drake’s shoulders slumped, and the big warrior’s eyes brimmed with the awful realisation that Taya was telling the truth.
It was the final straw. When Garin saw the defeat in Drake’s eyes, when he saw the big jovial youth suddenly lose faith, suddenly regard Garin as nothing but a skinny youth dressed in oversized robes, the knot that had been writhing and tightening deep within him seemed to burst. He leapt to his feet, fists clenched by his sides, eyes screwed shut, as all the shame and fear and desperation seemed to burst like a dam.
He let out a single, terrifying scream as symbols and chants seemed to flash in his mind’s eye. He opened his eyes and thrust the feather towards the iron bars. A great, searing bolt of purple lightning flashed across the bars with a deafening roar and the crackling of a thousand fires…the bars flew outward, ripped from the stone floor and ceiling, hurtling across the dungeon to slam into the wall beyond the table and its guttering candles. The roar of Garin’s scream mingled with the crash of iron on stone and the echoing crackle of the lightning blast he had summoned. The air was filled with the fresh and acrid odour of thunderstorms and then suddenly all was silence, except for Garin’s angry breathing.
He turned, and stared at Taya, who huddled close to Drake, eyes wide with terror.
“Now you done it, missy.” Drake whispered, trembling. “Now you’ve gone and done it. We’re both frogs for sure.”
oOo
-7-
Garin didn't speak, he couldn't. He turned back to look at the destruction he had caused and stared in disbelief. Had his magic finally come of age as Master Eyan had said it would? If only Eyan had been here to see that the long years of patient teaching had not been in vain.
Thoughts of his master caused Garin to remember his promise to fetch Eyan from the mountain. He would see that Garin was now a real wizard. Garin smiled at the thought of his master's pride and then a movement at the side of his vision made him return to their present situation.
“We should be going,” Garin said quietly and calmly, as if they were off out for a stroll. “I have to take back my master's staff and leave this rotten city.”
Both Taya and Drake nodded blankly in agreement. Taya looked nervously at the purple feather and Garin almost laughed.
“You don't think it was the feather that did that do you?” he asked, waving it around carelessly.
“Wasn't it?” Taya asked cautiously, backing away slightly as the feather came near her face.
“It was my magic,” Garin insisted but Taya didn’t appear convinced and Drake looked uncertain. Garin’s confidence faded and a frown creased his brow as he stared at the small feather. What if it had been the feather? Maybe it held some magical powers and he had nothing to do with their escape. He felt his sudden elation seep from him like milk from a cracked jug.
“What's happening out there?” the king called through the wall. “What was that noise?”
“It was just a feather,” Garin said with a voice that was suddenly empty of hope and strength.
“A feather?” came the confused reply. There was silence for a few seconds and then the future king continued. “Can you get me out of here?”
“Of course we can,” Drake answered confidently when Garin just stared at them both in defeat. The young warrior took hold of Taya's elbow and guided her across the rubble at the entrance of the cell.
Garin took one more look at the feather and stuffed it angrily into his pocket before following his two companions.
The bars to the king's cell were still intact although there was rubble all around them.
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“Can you blast my bars off like that?” the king asked as Garin came around face to face with the king. He looked very similar to the imposter but where this future king differed was in his eyes. These eyes weren't hard and demanding or aggressive, they were the eyes of a fair and just king. He had the same long nose as his cousin but it looked regal on him rather than pointy.
“I don’t know,” Garin replied honestly. He fished the feather out of his pocket and looked at it. It was slightly crumpled, covered in dust from the exploding stone. It didn’t look particularly impressive. He straightened out the feather and shook it to remove the dust, causing both Drake and Taya to take several steps backwards.
“I don’t think that’s such a wise idea, Wizard,” Drake said hesitantly. “We don’t really know what it’s capable of and we don’t want to be hurting our future king.”
Garin stared blankly at the bars of the cell as Drake’s words sank in. Could he really control whatever magic it was that had freed them? The answer, as they all knew, was no. He returned the feather to his pocket without speaking and felt his cheeks colouring crimson with embarrassment.
Drake was pulling on the bars, testing to see if any of them were loose from the shaking the whole wall had taken. He found one that wobbled a bit and was trying to rip it out of the stone when Taya interrupted him.
“We could just use this,” she said, holding a large brass key and raising one eyebrow at both Garin and Drake.
“Where did you get that, missy?” Drake asked, looking delighted.
“The hook on the wall over there,” she replied with a sigh. “Sometimes force isn’t the only answer.”
She slipped the key into the lock and turned it with a great effort but neither Garin or Drake offered to help.
“Thank you,” the king said as he came out to join them. He looked at the oddly assorted group that they formed and frowned. “Just who are you that you had to be locked up in my dungeon?”
