by John Booth
“I am the last in the line of the Magician Kings, as my father was before me and our son will be in times to come. I know you don’t believe me, but consider how you betrayed your beloved husband to lay with me, and have become pregnant when it should be impossible. The magic chooses the mother and makes conception happen. It is the only magic my family possesses, as you need a mentor to learn magic and there are no longer any teachers.”
“That’s nonsense,” Kenda stated, but there was doubt in her voice. Whatever attracted her to Hasan had begun to fade and she couldn’t believe she had ever taken this man to her bed.
Hasan unstrapped the dagger from his belt and dropped it in its scruffy leather sheath onto Kenda’s bed.
“When it was clear the Faerie would destroy all the Magician Kings, the families got together and constructed this dagger to protect the heir. It is given to each successive heir on their seventh birthday. It is deliberately made to look cheap and unworthy of theft. While it has had many replacement handles the blade is the original and holds its power. Keep the dagger and give it to Daniel when the time comes. It will shield the magic in him from the Faerie.”
Kenda stood up, bristling with sudden anger. “You plan to leave me pregnant, but dare to think that you can name our child.”
Yousef cowered in the cupboard. He had never heard his mother sound so angry.
Hasan gave a weary laugh. “Tell him what I have told you on his seventeenth birthday, the day he becomes a man. When the time comes he will father a child as I have done and he must pass on the dagger to his son.”
Hasan walked out of the room leaving Kenda speechless.
Yousef’s dream seamlessly shifted to Daniel’s seventh birthday. His mother and father had become farmers within the New Farms area inside the city walls. Such farms were valuable, unlike those on the Delbon Plains, because they were safe from raiders. However, to get any produce at all from the poor soil took backbreaking work.
Yousef was jealous of the attention his father gave Daniel. This despite the fact that Daniel had to work much harder than Yousef did. Daniel was already a better swordsman than Yousef would ever be, even though Yousef had excellent skills with a sword.
The dagger was Daniel’s only present that year and it looked cheap and shoddy compared with the one Yousef wore on his belt. But Yousef remembered the words Hasan has spoken to his mother and was insanely jealous.
Yousef’s dream spun through time and he found himself standing with Daniel over the graves they had just dug for their parents. Daniel was a pretty twelve year old boy, looking very different from his swarthy older brother.
“We will sell the farm and become traders, Daniel,” Yousef said.
Daniel shrugged and a tear fell to the dry earth.
“If that’s what you want. It doesn’t seem to matter much.”
Yousef decided he would never tell Daniel about the boy’s real father. He even considered buying Daniel a dagger and getting him to throw away the one Hasan bequeathed him. The idea of Fairie existing, let alone hunting down the heir of the Magician Kings seemed to be ludicrous. Better to remove all evidence of Daniel’s illicit past.
The part of Yousef that knew he was dreaming noted he had never got around to changing the dagger, something always came up to stop him.
The dream moved in time while Yousef tossed and turned in his bed. The remainder of this dream was horrible and his mind tried to flee from the pain to come.
Yousef was on the Delbon Plain and he and Daniel had just been captured by raiders. It was the worst fear of any trader. They had been tied up and there was no possibility of escape.
Yousef slept fitfully with the ropes biting into his wrists and legs. He awoke to find Daniel untying him. Every single raider was dead. Each man’s head was neatly severed from his body.
Yousef whipped Daniel to get the truth from him. He remembered how good it felt to strike Daniel. It wiped away the fear that had seized him from their moment of capture, erased in part with each new red stripe across Daniel’s back. A part of Yousef felt shame at what he had done and he moaned in his sleep.
When Daniel told him the Fairie had enchanted that dagger, the very dagger Yousef had hated and been jealous of for most of his life, his sense deserted him. He said those fateful commanding words, “Magic Sword, my ass,” as he held the despised thing in his hand.
Yousef felt the pain once again as the dagger flew from his hand and rammed itself up to the hilt in his bottom. It was a fatal wound and blood poured down his legs as he collapsed. Daniel pulled the dagger out of Yousef and flung it away in disgust and horror.
Yousef looked at his brother while lying on the ground in unendurable pain. Daniel tried to staunch the flow of blood with his rolled up shirt, but it was hopeless. Yousef could feel his bowels were sliced and knew death was inevitable.
He remembered Daniel weeping. Then Daniel touched his face and it seemed the world became stark white as if the sun had arisen early. An energy shot through him that was warm, living and vibrant. Then Daniel collapsed on top of him and the pain returned.
Yousef woke to find Daniel lying beside him, surrounded by the bodies of the raiders. Eventually Yousef stirred. Daniel lay unconscious and would remain so for a day. Yousef’s wound no longer poured blood and it seemed to have healed, but the pain it caused when he moved was almost unendurable. He struggled over to their water bags and drank one of them dry.
He recovered the dagger, cleaned it and fastened it back onto Daniel’s belt. He couldn’t explain why he did it, except that he knew it was the right thing to do. Yousef poured water down Daniel’s throat, though Daniel never woke. His own pain was too great for him to move more than a few feet before he needed to rest and gather up his strength and resolve.
Daniel awoke and found his brother watching him. “Yousef. How are you?”
“The bleeding has stopped, but I cannot walk.”
It was at that moment that Yousef awoke from his dream, a scream on his lips.
Yousef sat down carefully on his duck-down pillow and winced as a stab of agony reached from the base of his bottom up to his ribs. It had been months since Daniel had dragged the litter carrying Yousef through the city gates and even now the pain from the wound was intense.
“Is it still hurting as much as before, brother?” Daniel asked solicitously from the other side of the table.
“Need you ask?” Yousef said bitterly.
“Perhaps if you went to see Mother Yanda?”
“None of them are any good, Daniel. The King purged the city of healers years ago and we have no competent ones left. I know more about healing than Yanda does.” Yousef panted from the effort of being angry. It hurt so much.
Daniel waited patiently for his brother to calm down. He understood how frustrating it was for Yousef to be in constant pain and unable to do much more than sit and play checkers in the market. Yousef was a young man and he had been reduced to the status of an old one.
“We need to begin trading,” Daniel said as soon as his brother was calm enough to listen. The ‘we’ was a deliberate attempt to placate Yousef, as it was clear Yousef would never walk the trade roads again. A journey of a few feet left him exhausted; the many months on the road to get to Enbar Entar would certainly kill him.
“You aren’t ready to go on your own, Daniel,” Yousef said, starting his counter argument as he always did by focusing on Daniel’s age. “You are only fifteen and will not be regarded as an adult for two more years.”
“People on the road pay little attention to things like that.” Daniel said, repeating the same argument he had made a hundred times. “No one will question my age provided I have goods to trade, as well you know. I often traded for us and that was when I was much younger. Besides which, I have the dagger and will be able to take care of myself.”
Yousef stared bitterly at the dagger Daniel wore on his belt.
“You could join the King’s Guard and earn enough money to keep us,” Yousef a
rgued. “You won all those fighting competitions as a child and people still remember our father and his days as Captain of the Guard.”
“As you say, I am fifteen years old, Yousef, and the pay for a child in the Guard would not keep you in coffee. I need to go out and trade. Our money will run out in less than a year while the round trip to Enbar Entar may take half that and that is the fastest of the trade routes.”
“It’s late in the season, Daniel. You would have to travel on your own and you know how dangerous it is around Delbon.”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Daniel replied and Yousef had to acknowledge the truth of his brother’s words.
The Magic Ring
Daniel was nearly at the end of his journey to Enbar Entar. The city was only a couple of days away at the speed a donkey can walk. The trade route to Enbar Entar skirted the edge of the deadly Atribar el’Dou desert that marked the southern end of the known world. It had been a long, hot and dusty journey and he had not encountered a living soul during the three months it had taken him.
He hoped the lack of traffic didn’t mean the Caliph of Enbar Entar was having another of his infamous purges. The purges usually targeted traders and travelers because the Caliph was convinced they were all thieves and vagabonds. From Daniel’s limited experience he knew it didn’t take much to set him off.
He took no chances while traveling. That evening, as the sun began to set causing a blood red glow in the west, he saw the rising dust a horse makes when racing much too fast for its own wellbeing.
Daniel led the donkeys off the road and into a small gully where they were hidden from sight. He found a place in the rocks that protected his back from attack and waited for the rider to go past.
The rider had obviously spotted him for he didn’t ride past the gully. Instead, he slowed his horse to a walk and directed his mount off the road to where Daniel waited. In the dry desert air, sound travels especially well and the impact of hooves hitting compacted dry earth can be heard over a considerable distance.
Daniel heard the horse come to a halt while rider and mount were still out of sight. He fingered the hilt of his dagger as he waited to see what would happen next.
“Hello the camp,” a young female voice, cheerful and a bit winded from the sound of it, shouted out. She spoke the traditional words of greeting, “May I enter your camp and break my fast with you?”
Daniel shouted out the traditional reply, “Come forward and be welcome. Be sure you leave taking only what you brought.”
The rider started her horse moving again and appeared over the rise. Daniel couldn’t tell much about her because she wore a large dusty cloak wrapped around her. She also wore a scarf about her face to protect her from the dust and sand that got everywhere in the desert winds.
The girl dismounted, threw her cloak’s hood back and pulled the scarf from her face with evident relief. “I saw you and your donkeys from afar. I’ve traveled from Delbon alone and it will be good to sit in company again. My name is Jalia al’Dare.” She stuck out her hand towards him.
Shaking hands was not a usual custom for the people of the road. It was a common practice in Bagdor and in the more fashionable part of Delbon, but not on the road, because of the potential danger.
Daniel was stunned by how pretty the girl was. She was about his age and had a trim lithe body. Her deep blue eyes fascinated him. They were a color he had never seen before, despite the places he had been. The girl had a complexion as pale as milk, which contrasted strongly with her long dark hair.
Remembering his manners, Daniel decided to ignore the risk and shake her hand. His fingers were damp and cold when compared with her dry, warm ones. She firmly shook his hand and eyed him up in a way suggesting she had tested him and he had passed. Perhaps she wanted to know if he would attack her. However, it didn’t look to Daniel as though she would have been bothered if he had. She wore a sword across her back and the confidence with which she moved gave Daniel the impression she knew how to use it.
“My name is Daniel,” he informed her, though he wasn’t sure she was listening.
Her horse needed walking to cool it down, and without thinking about it, Daniel took off the horse’s saddle and began walking the beast around the camp.
Jalia’s horse was a fine animal, chestnut in color with an intelligent look on its face. Daniel could easily lust for a horse as fine as this one. He could have lusted after the girl as well if he thought for a second that she might have been interested in him.
Jalia, for her part, was bemused by the attitude of this boy she found on the desert road. One moment he acted sensibly, recognizing she might be a threat, and the next moment he acted as if he had known her all her life, trusting her completely. She concluded he must either be a fool or much more capable than he looked.
Jalia wanted to find a trustworthy companion to travel with. Since leaving Bagdor with a King’s ransom hidden in her money belt, she had found herself pursued and abused wherever she went. Her journey to Delbon was unpleasant. Men she met assumed she was willing to have sex with them because she was traveling alone. That alone made her a whore in their eyes.
Two men assaulted her while she was traveling with a group of traders. She had to leave their camp and move quickly up the trade route once swiftly dispatching the men in question. Traders moved in family groups and took their family honor seriously. Jalia’s leaving was more a case of escaping an angry mob rather than parting company.
She fled Delbon after spotting a man cheating in a card game. Two men died at the card table when they objected to her making an issue of the matter.
The Delbon Guard decided that since she was a foreigner and those she killed were local it must be her fault. This despite the fact that the dead in question were known thieves. The Guardsmen made the fatal mistake of trying to arrest Jalia.
In the fight that ensued, she left another three men dead and roused the whole of the Guard against her. She was lucky to escape the city with a decent horse and had been living off the land ever since. It was lonely on the trail and she needed to find someone she could trust.
Daniel finished cooling down Jalia’s horse. He rubbed the animal down and fed it some of the precious oats he kept as a treat for the donkeys. He lit a fire with practiced ease and soon had a stewing pot on the fire and a pot of tea brewing next to it.
Jalia collapsed against the boulder Daniel had used earlier to protect his back. He approached her with a cup of tea and a plate of stew. He nearly dropped them in shock when he found her knife pressing against his throat. Her reaction speed was almost super-human.
“I’ve brought you food,” Daniel said slowly and carefully. He felt the razor sharp edge of her knife cutting into his flesh.
“Sorry about that,” she said sheathing the knife, “You startled me. I was dozing.”
Jalia sat again, accepting the plate and cup from Daniel’s hands. She thought the food he had prepared tasted wonderful. ‘The boy has the gift of cooking’ she thought as she tucked in and ate every last morsel. She then fell properly asleep for the first time since leaving Bagdor.
Daniel killed the fire. The desert was warm enough at this time of year not to require the extra warmth and there were thieves and worse who could locate a fire at night from five miles away. He cleaned up his dishes, but decided against touching those that lay besides the sleeping girl.
‘She’s a she-wolf,’ he thought looking at her face, which he thought was even more beautiful as it relaxed in sleep. ‘She is magnificent.’ It was going to be difficult for a teenager with raging hormones to sleep this close to such a woman.
Jalia was awake before Daniel the next morning, brewed tea and cleaned her dirty dishes before he woke. She thought about offering him money for the meal. Jalia had embarrassingly forgotten the boy’s name. She was so exhausted when they met the night before that she had not paid attention to what he said. She wasn’t sure how to ask him without sounding rude.
“How far a
re we from Enbar Entar?” she asked to break the silence. Jalia had no idea where the city was, accepting that if she followed the trail long enough she would reach it eventually.
“About two days, if we break camp soon.” Daniel answered awkwardly. He had never had much opportunity to talk to girls. If Yousef caught him looking at one he would be sent off on a chore. “You could get there in a day if you were to ride your horse the way you were yesterday.”
“He needs a rest and so do I. We will travel the rest of the way with you, if that’s all right?” Jalia wondered why it was important that the boy respond with a yes. Road etiquette demanded she should leave if he did not invite her to stay.
“I would be glad of the company. I’m not used to traveling alone.” Daniel said to Jalia’s considerable relief.
“Who do you normally travel with?” Jalia asked, though it was hardly surprising a boy as young as this one had not been traveling alone for long.
“My older brother, Yousef. He suffered a serious accident some time ago and can no longer travel. It is up to me to make a living sufficient for both of us.”
“You are a trader?”
“Yes. I’m carrying ironmongery from Delbon.”
“I thought the real money was in silver and jewelry?” Her father had traded in such things from Delbon and they fetched a fine price. What the boy was carrying would sell well enough, but his profits would be slim.
Daniel looked away from her. “It is. But my brother’s illness consumed most of our money and he has to have enough money to live until I return. We could not afford to buy expensive goods.”
Jalia decided to change the subject.
“What is Enbar Entar like?”
“It is a caliphate and the Caliph rules the city with an iron and. You must be careful how you behave in the city. Women are not usually seen without a man at their side and those that do are thought to have low morals. It is usual for women to hide their faces behind veils.”
