The Squire

by James Wisher

  “All right, let me think. Hold your sword out and point it toward where you want the portal to open.”

  Col did as she bid. “What now?”

  “Hold still and let me concentrate.” Alana put her hand on his shoulder.

  Col tried not to fidget as Alana did whatever she was doing. Any second he expected black flames to engulf the grove and incinerate them all. Warmth flooded through Col and the familiar disk appeared in the air a few feet from them, this one big enough to fit through.

  “Go, go, go.” Col waved Manes and the rangers through. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see a sphere of Dark energy flying toward them.

  “I don’t know how long I can hold it.” The strain in her voice more than the words told Col how bad off she was.

  Col grabbed Alana’s wrist and lunged through the portal, dragging her behind him just ahead of the blast. They landed in a heap on the floor of Tahlia’s casting room. Black flames followed them through, but vanished when the portal closed. Tahlia’s crystal ball flickered above them. Alana’s head ended up on his chest and she looked out cold. Manes and the rangers stood in a circle looking down at them. He expected Tahlia to arrive any moment; she had to have some way to sense when someone entered her private chamber.

  “What now?” Manes asked. “This kid’s getting heavy.”

  * * *

  Zarrin watched the trees burn for a moment then turned away. The squire had fled an instant before the blast detonated, damn the luck. Still, the news wasn’t all bad. He felt his power slip through the portal and past the wards that protected Celestia. In that moment he managed to inflict considerable damage.

  “The boy escaped.” The Black Prince glowered down at him. “That’s twice we’ve failed to eliminate a royal family.”

  Zarrin ignored the criticism implicit in the statement. “True, but our agent slipped through the wards in the instant I disrupted them so we may have gained more than we lost.”

  “Perhaps. Do we move on the final kingdom now?”

  “Indeed, before our enemies can warn them.”

  Zarrin opened a portal and they stepped through. An instant later they emerged in another throne room. A Light blast staggered him, then another. Zarrin snarled away the pain and raised a shield. Beams blasted at the shield, and he sensed half a dozen lightcasters out there attacking him. None of them had much power on their own, but together they had enough to inconvenience him.

  “It seems our enemies warned them after all,” the Black Prince said.

  “Indeed. Perhaps it was arrogant to appear in a third throne room in a row. No matter.” Zarrin turned the shield into flames and sent them streaking in every direction. Screams rewarded his effort along with an end of the blasts.

  He glanced around the scorched room and found six charred bodies but no sign of the royals. Zarrin reached out and located the prince far to the South. He found no trace of the king and queen. No matter how far they’d fled he should have gotten some sense of where they were. If he couldn’t it meant they’d gone into hiding and their lightcasters had raised a barrier to hide them from his mystical senses. That would delay him perhaps, but no more.

  Zarrin opened another portal. “Go find the crown prince. This portal will take you to his general location. I trust you to persuade someone there to tell you what you need to know.”

  He couldn’t see his servant smile under his great helm, but he sensed it as the grim figure disappeared through the portal. With that task delegated Zarrin turned his thoughts to locating the king and queen. He doubted they’d gone far as the warning couldn’t have come more than a few hours ago. He frowned. Unless they traveled by portal. Damn it all, he should have left one of the lightcasters alive for questioning. Oh well, he’d just have to find someone else to ask.

  Zarrin sent his thoughts flying through the castle. He found the weak life force of palace servants scurrying around like rats through the halls. None of them would have any useful information. He blasted a random door to splinters; in his annoyance he blasted a good-sized chunk of the wall along with it. He stepped into the hall and turned right. He sensed someone approaching and a few seconds later a plump woman with graying hair rounded the corner. She skidded to a halt and tried to flee when she spotted him. Zarrin pointed and bands of Dark energy bound her in place and lifted her off the ground. He stalked toward her, stopping only when their faces were inches apart.

  The maid whimpered. “Please, lord, don’t hurt me.”

  “Shut up.” Zarrin’s gaze burned into her eyes and through them into her brain. He rummaged around her memories, finding nothing of great interest, until he saw the castle chapel. That seemed a likely place to find someone useful. “Thank you.”

  Zarrin snapped his fingers and Dark flames reduced the maid to ash. He followed the directions he plucked from the dead woman’s mind and walked on. He encountered no resistance on his walk to the chapel. You’d have thought they’d leave at least a guard or two to entertain him. The door to the chapel radiated Light energy. He blasted the door off its hinges and stepped into the rather plain chapel. The Light energy pricked his skin and with an effort of will he suppressed it, shattering the enchantment.

  The altar held gold plates used for collecting offerings. Maybe if he shattered the altar the chapel keeper would find the courage to try to stop him, only one way to find out. He set his hand on the smooth stone and hissed when it burned him. He focused on the pain and sent Dark flames steaming out of his palm. The stone vibrated and cracked. A blast of Light energy staggered him away from the altar. Standing in a hidden doorway, the chapel keeper stood with his hands raised and glowing with power.

  Zarrin cloaked himself in Dark power and readied a weak blast. He didn’t want to kill the keeper yet. The next blast skipped off his cloak and in the instant before the keeper recovered from his attack Zarrin struck. A fist of Dark power struck the keeper a solid blow to the temple, staggering him and sending him to his knees. Zarrin gestured again and bound the young man in bands of power identical to the ones he’d used earlier.

  Confident that the keeper couldn’t attack him again Zarrin backhanded him hard enough to rattle his teeth. The young man groaned and opened his eyes. When he saw Zarrin standing in front of him he trembled. Zarrin forced his corpse host to smile, more a death head’s grin than anything that might express humor.

  “I won’t tell you anything.”

  Zarrin patted his cheek. “I know.”

  The darkcaster drove his will into the keeper’s mind and tore through his weak defenses. In a moment he saw everything he needed. When his awareness returned he found the keeper drooling, eyes rolled back in his head. It appeared he’d been a little forceful in his search, not that it mattered. A snap of his fingers reduced the keeper to so much gray ash. A blast of power blew the altar into gravel. Zarrin nodded once; he hated leaving a job half done.

  * * *

  Col extricated himself from the unconscious Alana a moment before Michael and Rain entered the casting chamber. He caught himself before he asked where Tahlia was. If she hadn’t shown up she must have something important going on.

  Michael’s eyes landed on the unconscious prince and a look of almost comical relief spread across his face. “You saved one of them.”

  “It was a near thing, but we managed. Two rangers weren’t so lucky.”

  Michael shifted his focus to Manes. “I’m sorry about your men. Is he okay?”

  Manes nodded. “The kid fainted when Col threw him off the castle wall.”

  Rain shot him a glare. “You threw a prince off the wall of his own castle?”

  “What? It’s not my fault he wouldn’t climb down the ladder. Manes caught him with no trouble at all.”

  “The important thing is he’s here and alive,” Michael said, trying to stop an argument before it started. “That means another safe sword. Take him and Alana to the healer’s quarters then everyone needs to gather in the war room. I’m afraid you’re not going
to get a very long rest.”

  Col bent down and picked up the unconscious lightcaster and followed Manes out of the casting chamber. Michael and Rain walked along beside them. As they went Michael said, “Some of Zarrin’s Dark power made it through Alana’s portal. The blast disrupted the wards for a short time.”

  “Like I said it was a near thing. Half a second longer and we’d have gotten roasted. Is the queen repairing the wards?”

  Michael nodded. “She knows them better than anyone. I don’t know how long it will take, but Her Majesty will get them sorted out. In the meantime there’s one more kingdom that needs warning.”

  They reached the healer’s quarters and he laid Alana down on one of half a dozen cots. A heavyset woman about as wide as she was tall shooed him out of the way and bent over Alana. Col moved aside, happy to leave the lightcaster in the care of someone who knew how to look after her.

  Michael must have seen the concern on his face. “Don’t worry. She’s strong and will recover quickly. Unfortunately, not quickly enough to join you on your next mission. I’ll be taking her place.”

  Col nodded. It’d be good to have the more powerful and experienced lightcaster along. “Will you be assuming command?”

  “No, my training had little to do with combat tactics beyond my teacher telling me to blast whoever the commander pointed out.”

  Col grinned. “Sounds like something I heard a Corinthian siege engineer say once.”

  Michael smiled back. “In the great wars casters on both sides often filled that role in opposing armies.”

  Col turned to Manes. “What do you say, lieutenant, ready for another adventure?”

  Manes frowned. “Would it matter if I said no?”

  Col’s grin broadened. “Nope.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Traveling through Michael’s portal felt different from Alana’s, smoother, like trading a dirt road for a cobblestone one. The Kingdom of Sorona’s palace, like Celestia’s, sat in the center of its capital city. Col and his team emerged from the portal a little ways up the central thoroughfare facing the main gate.

  Col frowned at the lack of a gate guard then he noticed the greasy black smoke billowing out several windows. That couldn’t be good. “I think we’re too late.”

  “I fear you’re right,” Michael said. “How do you want to proceed?”

  “We need to figure out where the royals are. If they’re in the palace with Zarrin we need to get them to safety, but if not I don’t want to risk everyone searching. Can you sniff them out with your magic?”

  Michael’s brows drew together while he concentrated. A few seconds later he said, “I get no sense of the king and queen. They’re either dead or in hiding. The crown prince is far to the south near the lake, but I can’t get an exact fix.”

  “Zarrin?”

  “He’s certainly in the palace.”

  “If he’s in the palace we’re not going anywhere near the place.”

  “Hear, hear,” Manes said to no one in particular.

  Col shot him a look before turning back to Michael. “Who would know exactly where the prince was?”

  “The only place I can think of is our embassy.”

  “Great, where it is?”

  “Follow me.”

  They jogged through the quiet, twilit streets. The area around the castle appeared to be mainly residences, noble mansions to be precise, mixed with high-end businesses. The embassy turned out not to be too far from where they arrived. It occupied a plain two-story building and had a guard in Celestia’s colors standing by the doors. The man moved to bar their way, but a second look at Michael’s robes persuaded him to stand aside and open the door.

  Seated at a desk a little ways inside the door was a blond woman around Rain’s age in a snug crimson dress that showed her figure to good effect. She must have known Michael because she got a big smile when she spotted him. “He’s in his office, sir. Please go right on back.”

  Michael smiled. “Thank you, Pamela.”

  They left the girl and went deeper into the embassy. Dark hardwood paneling covered the ceiling and walls and thick carpet muffled their steps. The whole place gave off an air of formality that made Col uncomfortable.

  “Do you know that girl?” Col asked.

  “She’s my niece. I pulled a some strings to get her this job.” Michael stopped and knocked on a closed door.

  “Come in,” a muffled voice said.

  Michael pushed the door open and Col followed him in. Manes tapped him on the shoulder and Col turned to face him. “What?”

  “I think me and the boys will wait out here.”

  Col nodded and closed the door behind him. He turned around and found the ambassador, a stout, bald man with a smoldering pipe clamped between his teeth. Col stifled a cough at the stink from his tobacco.

  “Michael! Good to see you again. I made it up to the castle this morning to warn the king and his family. They assured me they’d take every precaution.”

  “I hope they did. The palace is under attack and at least some of it’s on fire.”

  “Light burn me! I received no word.”

  “I’m sure they had more pressing things to worry about,” Michael said. “We were hoping you could tell us where to find the crown prince. I sense him to the south, but that’s too vague to be much use.”

  “Ah, Prince Henry, of course. He’s a good lad, but a little wild. His parents sent him away to school at King’s College on the shore of the lake. They’re trying to teach him to be a king I suppose. One moment, I have a map here somewhere.”

  The ambassador rummaged through his drawers until he found a rolled-up piece of parchment. He unrolled it on the small unused portion of his desk and pointed to a little village on the shore labeled Lurn, an appropriate name for a college town. “That’s where they sent him.”

  Michael shook hands with the ambassador. “Thank you, Tom.”

  “Of course, Michael, anytime I can be of use.”

  Col nodded to the ambassador and they rejoined Manes and the rangers out in the hall. “We know where we’re going,” Col said.

  “I wish we had some idea what we’re stepping into,” Michael said. “For all we know Zarrin sent a hundred beastmen to Lurn with orders to hunt down the prince.”

  “I’ll take a hundred beastmen over one darkcaster any day,” Col said. “Let’s get a move on.”

  * * *

  The lack of screaming and bleeding people told Col that Zarrin hadn’t sent a hundred beastmen as Michael feared. What it didn’t tell him was what if anything the darkcaster had sent. The sun had set and lights dotted a quaint little town filled with taverns and no doubt a few disguised whorehouses that had grown up around the sprawling campus of the college.

  Michael started toward the college, but Col put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure he’s not in town?”

  Michael shook his head. “It never occurred to me to check. Classes are through for the day, so I suppose he could be in town having a drink.”

  “Let’s hope he’s not drunk or otherwise indisposed,” Col said. “It’ll be hard enough getting him out of here if we don’t have to sober him up first.”

  Michael concentrated again and looked toward the college. “He’s there, and I sense a Dark presence closing in.”

  “Zarrin?” Col asked.

  “Not that strong, I think it’s the Black Prince.”

  A jolt of adrenaline burned through Col. Finally he’d get a fair shot at him without Zarrin in the way. “Let’s hurry. We need to find the Prince Henry first. Will you be able to get a better sense of his location when we get closer?”

  Michael nodded as they ran toward the college. “I’m scanning constantly now. With each step I hone in on his position as well as the Black Prince’s.”

  “You’re on point then. Show us the way.”

  The way led to the school library, a free-standing structure a few hundred yards from the main building. Michael stopped at the
foot of a short set of stairs. “They’re both in there, still some distance apart, but not for much longer.”

  The team ran up the steps and Col pushed the doors open. A small desk stood at the end of an open area and behind it stretched row upon row of full bookcases. Behind the desk sat a little old lady with glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She looked up at them, her lips pressed together in a stern expression. “This is a library not a battlefield, no weapons allowed.”

  A little smile curled his lips at the woman’s unknowing irony. Unless they got very lucky the library was indeed about to become a battlefield. “Where’s Prince Henry? We need to find him right away.”

  She waved behind her in a vague way. “He’s somewhere among the stacks. Is there some trouble?”

  “I’m afraid so, ma’am. Are there any other students studying tonight?”

  “Two others, but I don’t know exactly where they are either.”

  “Are there any other entrances?” Manes asked.

  She shook her head. “No, why would there be?”

  “There is now,” Manes muttered.

  Col elbowed him in the ribs. “No reason, ma’am.” Col motioned one of the rangers over. “Please go outside with this gentleman and keep any other students from entering until we secure the prince. Thank you for all your help.”

  The ranger led the librarian out the doors. When they’d gone Col said, “Fan out and find the prince. Michael, what does he look like?”

  “Tall, broad shoulders, short blond hair, green eyes. He carries himself with the air of nobility; you can’t mistake him for anyone else.”

  “Right,” Col said. “Anybody finds a big, blond kid with his nose stuck in the air give a shout. Questions?”

  No one had any so they spread out. Col went straight down the center aisle, sword drawn, hoping to find the Black Prince almost as much as Prince Henry. All he found was shelf after shelf of books. The musty smell of the place tickled his nose.

  Halfway down the next section of shelves something thumped. Three bounding steps brought him to the end of the row. He lunged between the shelves, sword raised. He found two students, neither of them Prince Henry, locked at the lips and pressed up against the shelves. The boy spotted Col standing there with his drawn sword and to his credit stepped in front of his lady friend and raised his fists.