Tyrant Trouble (Mudflat Magic)

by Phoebe Matthews

“Why should you help me? It was you who destroyed me.”

  “No. No, I didn't. You destroyed yourself. You didn't have good answers for Kovat's questions.” My words were brave enough but I still wasn't going to look in his eyes. Hypnotism is funny stuff, nothing I have ever understood or been willing to try. It can be shot through with bad magic.

  “What is it you want?”

  “I saw something I hope you can explain to me.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “Because I don't know what is planned. Maybe the overthrow of Kovat's son. Maybe the destruction of all of us.”

  He squatted in a corner and turned his face to the wall. Hunched up, his thin hands and feet protruding from his tunic, he looked old and sick and defeated. “This matters not to me. One ruler will entomb me, another will behead me. Where is the difference? A quick death might be easier.”

  “Is there nothing I can offer you?”

  “A way out,” he whispered against the stones.

  “I'll do what I can when Kovat returns but there's no way to help you escape now.”

  He glanced up. I turned my eyes away.

  “Would you help me if you could?”

  “In return for the right information, why not? Your captivity is no use to me.” And that was true. He was a weak, weary old man, separated from friends and home. If let go, he would disappear into the mountains. He'd want freedom far more than revenge.

  “I could tell you how to free me.”

  True, I wasn’t scared of a sickly old man, but what about Kovat when he returned? If he discovered I had helped the magician escape, and Kovat had an unpleasant ability to know exactly whom to suspect of what, what would happen to me?

  While I worried that through, I nodded. “Go ahead, tell me.”

  “I could tell you the contents of drugs to add to the drinks of the guards that would make them sleep through any sound. You could steal past them and release me.”

  “And when they woke up they could hack me to death.”

  “Make your own choice. Whatever you want of me must be paid for with my freedom.”

  The guard rapped his sword hilt against the outer surface of the cell door. I called to him to wait a moment longer. Then I told the old man what I had heard and seen in Ober's chamber.

  “I know her magic,” he said. “I know those signs and powders she uses. When I am out of this place I will tell you what it means.”

  “Tell me quickly and I will try to get you out.”

  “Later will be beyond caring, dark woman. I am weary to the brink of death and you have not much longer. Now I will tell you how to mix the drug to overcome the guards. Make your choice when you wish. But if you hope to save yourself, you had better choose soon. What Ober mixes can be fatal. She learned from a deathwalker.”

  He had barely time to tell me the leaves I must grind and simmer and add to a drink for the guards. First, grinding coffee beans is the limit of my culinary skills. Second, his mixture might be deadly. I think we both knew I wasn't going to do it.

  The guard knocked again, opened the door, and said it was time to leave.

  I had no more than returned to the temple courtyard when Nance attacked me with questions. “What did he do? How did he speak? What are the cells like? Did he cast a spell on you? Did he tell you what you need to know? Will he help us?”

  I described the prison cell with its shaft of light entering through the ceiling grill. She clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Yes, I know where that is! The grill opens to a small courtyard so the guards can check on the prisoner from above. Did he tell you what you sought?”

  I told her his bargain.

  Nance shrieked, clapped her hands over her mouth and stared at me, her eyes wide above her crossed fingers.

  “He said Tarvik's life lay in Ober's hands.”

  “Do you believe him? Is he lying to gain his freedom? If you help him, you will destroy yourself, Stargazer. Promise me you will try no such madness.”

  I nodded. I'm not suicidal. For now we were safe enough. And who could know what might occur. Maybe my suspicions were wrong. Better yet, maybe bad weather would change Kovat's plans and he would return before Ober attempted whatever she was up to.

  “Nance, what exactly is a deathwalker?” I asked and waited patiently for her to go through her usual series of screams and threats after which I added, “The magician warned me against the deathwalker.”

  “The magician? The magician said that? Oh Stargazer!”

  “So tell me, what exactly is a deathwalker?”

  “I don't really know. I only know the tales Lor tells. Some say that man can kill you with a touch. Some say he is already dead. Some say his soul is gone, that he traded it to an evil god.”

  None of her explanations matched anything I knew about. The magician of Thunder was little more than an old man with a few stage tricks. So probably the deathwalker was also overrated, a man who once murdered someone under odd circumstances, creating rumors about himself.

  While Nance fussed around me, I drew a circle on a tabletop. As I did not know an hour, all I could use was the day Kovat had given me. That meant placing the sun on the morning horizon of the deathwalker’s chart and hoping it showed a message from that spot. I knew from memory the placement of the slower planets. I added them. After what I had felt in Ober's chart, I didn't want to do his horoscope and certainly I didn't want to touch it.

  Nance leaned against the table. “What do you see in your magic circle?”

  “Nothing much, little more than I saw in the charts of Erlan and Kovat, but then, this one not only lacks the moon and near planets, it lacks the placement of time.”

  “You sound like my chants. Your meaning is clouded.”

  “It is,” I sighed. “I hoped for some clear message but there isn't one.”

  Turning to look at her, I dropped my hand to the table for support. “When can we get out of these robes?”

  A shock of cold ran through my hand. I stumbled back.

  “Stargazer? You look pale. Are you faint?”

  I stared at the circle. The sun. His heart. I had touched it.

  “Nothing but cold,” I whispered.

  “You're cold? Shall I make you some tea?”

  “No.” I didn't know what to tell her, disbelieving what I felt. Not the pits of the earth, not the swirling horror of Ober's heart. Something worse. Slowly, not wanting to do it at all, I reached out my hand and pressed my palm over the sun in the deathwalker's chart. “It's cold, his heart is a piece of ice.”

  “That's no surprise. Notice how the other guards avoid him? He is wicked, that's certain, and I think they fear him.”

  “Worse than that.” I continued to press my palm to the table. If I had not felt the cold I would have thought there was simply nothing to feel. This business of heartbeats baffled me. Yet I felt them every time I touched the sun in a horoscope. I had felt the pounding of Erlan's heart, the lighter rhythm of the hearts of Ober and Alakar. “His heart is frozen. Not cold, frozen. No heartbeat, no pulsing, nothing.”

  “And that means?”

  “What does it mean, you tell me what it means when a heart does not beat.”

  Her eyes widened and she paled. “I told you, Stargazer, I told you. The man is dead. He has no soul. And his heart no longer beats.”

  “Which is why he is called a deathwalker?”

  Nance shrieked, “I hate this! Don't tell me more! I don't want to know!” She ran out of our rooms and back toward the altar room, and while I stood staring at the circle, I heard her banging around with the candlesticks. I waited. She calmed down enough to return.

  “We have to warn Tarvik. Ober mentioned Kovat's death. It may be only a wish on her part, but still, Tarvik needs to know.”

  “How can he beware of an unknown danger?”

  I shrugged. “Distance, maybe. He could make himself unavailable? Avoid her and stick close to his guards?”

  “Impossible. Guards could protect him
from an attacker with a dagger, but magic? Also, Tarvik must dine with his guests. He can do no less as host.”

  Hadn't thought about the etiquette among the unwashed. “Could he pretend to be sick and stay in his room?”

  “If Ober seeks to harm him, that would give her an opportunity. She could claim to bring him healing potions and instead poison him.”

  “I don't think she wants him dead until he's married to Alakar. But she might have a potion to make him obey her. Maybe he needs you or me at his side to slap his hands if he tries to drink stuff he shouldn't? Or better, we claim the Daughter wishes us in attendance to cure him with our constant prayers?”

  She moaned. “How easily you expand the duties of the temple. And how is Tarvik supposed to know your plan?”

  “How about I go secretly tonight to warn him?”

  “Not without me.”

  After considerable arguing I was forced to accept, once again, this kid could at times be stronger and more stubborn than myself. What would Tarvik think, after showing me the secret door and telling me he trusted me, if I popped up in his room from the passageway entrance and brought along Nance?

  “No one knows of this passage, not even my father,” he had said, and put my fingers on the touchstones so that I could use the passage. “I trust you,” he had said.

  If I was not so sure Ober planned to damage the guy, I would never break that trust. Now I had to balance his anger against my fear for his safety.

  I told Nance, “He is going to hate me for this. But that's better than letting her drug him.”

  “Better for all of us,” Nance pointed out. “If Ober gains control, Stargazer, you'll end up roommates with the magician.”

  That was a yukky thought.

  That night Nance and I, wrapped in dark cloaks like cat burglars and led by a protesting Lor, crept from the stable and moved silently in the shadows of the shrubs and outcropping rocks.

  We left Lor at the trees near the castle wall to wait for us. I didn't have to tell him about the secret entrance. He was well aware of the sliding door into the stable and he wasn't dumb. Sure, he would have figured it out. He wouldn't tell.

  We were a stone's throw from the castle when we were challenged. The voice was sharp, dry, inhuman, put it all together and my closest description is that it sounded like a magnified scrape of bones.

  “Who goes there? Identify yourself.”

  Grabbing Nance's shoulder, I pulled her down flat on the ground and lay with an arm over her, did a whole lot of very soft whispering. “Shhh.” Because I figured he could probably hear us breathe.

  Lor's deep voice announced loudly, “Me. The stable keeper.” Lor seldom raised his voice, so the noise was to warn us and to cover up any sound we made.

  Nance lay motionless as she got the message. I slowly ran my hand up her back until I felt the fabric of her hood bunched at her neck, then pulled the hood up over her blond hair. My hair didn't matter because it was as dark as the night anyway.

  We raised our heads and I felt Nance gasp. Felt a bit like gasping, myself. We did both manage to keep still.

  “Why are you out?” the scratchy voice demanded.

  His silhouette was clear against the starlit sky, taller than most men, hooded, long cape swinging out above his narrow boots. Nance whispered, “Deathwalker.”

  Lor said, “Been at the kennel. Got a dog out.”

  “Have you found it?” The voice ran like ice cubes down my spine.

  “Not yet. Be going to circle the castle.”

  “Why would one of your dogs be at the castle?” The tall shape moved toward Lor, and it looked to me as though only the boots moved. No swinging of shoulders, or turn of head.

  “Wouldn't. Woods beyond, might go there. Rabbits.”

  The figure reached Lor and stopped in front of him. We could see them both, the deathwalker looming over Lor, Lor holding his ground, not backing so much as a half step.

  “Who is with you?”

  “You're right,” Lor said slowly. “Shoulda brought another dog.”

  “Not dogs. People. Who else is out here with you?”

  The persistence of the man was not good. I poked Nance, then starting inching on my belly toward the castle wall, trying to keep my face down so it wouldn't reflect starlight. The rest of me was fairly well concealed.

  Lor said, “Could use a lad to track dogs.”

  I dug my elbows into the ground and pulled myself forward and felt Nance move beside me. Slow going.

  As though Lor guessed as much, he actually kept up a conversation, maybe a first for Lor. “Don't got one.”

  “A boy to track dogs? What are you going on about, man? Can't you call the dog?”

  Lor did a very loud throat clearing, harrumphed a bit, coughed, then said, “Don't know dogs, do ya?”

  We were at the door. I looked over and saw Lor step slightly away so the man turned automatically to stay near him. Effective, but then, I knew Lor was clever. The deathwalker now had his profile to us and that meant the rim of his hood blocked any side vision.

  I stood up, touched the stone, and as the door slid open I reached back and pulled Nance through.

  “What's that! Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what? You hear the dog?”

  “Not your stupid dog! There's a person over there by the wall!”

  Not any more. The door was closed and Ober's man could wander up and down the wall all night, peering behind shrubs or running his hands along the stones. He wouldn't find a sign of us.

  Catching Nance's hand, I led the way. Throughout our blind journey down the black corridor I repeated to myself the arguments I would give to Tarvik, reasons he would have to accept. It would be no quick win. He would resist what would seem to him a coward's withdrawal from his duties as ruler. Also, a guy who carried a token of his promised beneath his tunic next to his heart seemed to me unlikely to suspect her of evil intentions.

  Now that I had talked with the magician, I was prepared to argue with Tarvik until daybreak, if need be, because I was so sure of the danger planned for him. And in one matter only was I wrong. I misjudged Ober. The woman had no patience, wasted no time.

  When I pushed aside the rug covering the opening to Tarvik's room, Tarvik sat alone on the stone floor, propped into a corner of the walls, his head dropped onto one shoulder, his eyes and mouth open but his mind and all his senses closed.

  I flew across the room and knelt beside him, grabbing his shoulders, then running my hands over his face and whispering his name.

  His skin was as cold as the stone walls.

  Nance stuffed her knuckles into her mouth to keep from screaming.

  CHAPTER 13

  After fumbling to unhook the clasp on his cloak, I pushed aside the heavy fur, pressed my hand against the soft velvet of his tunic and could feel nothing, no rise and fall of his chest. Frantic, I ripped at the laces until I could work my hand under the material and slide my fingers across his skin. Cold. When I leaned closer, a faint breath touched my face and beneath my palm I felt his heartbeat.

  “He's alive,” I whispered.

  Nance moved to my side and reached out a shaking hand to touch Tarvik's forehead. “He feels dead.”

  “Not yet.”

  “What is it? What has happened? Will he die? Stargazer, what will we do? Should we call his guards? Where is Artur?”

  I settled Tarvik against the wall, then caught Nance's face between my hands to make her stop babbling and look at me. She trembled violently.

  “Listen to me, Nance. Tarvik was healthy when we saw him this morning, and I don't see any injury. Ober must have given him a drug.”

  “Can you heal him?”

  “Wish I could, but I can't. I don't know what's wrong with him.”

  “But he will die!” she wailed.

  “Hush. We can't be caught here. If you want to save Tarvik, you must do as I say.”

  Nance blinked back tears and nodded.

  “Nance, we ha
ve to speak with the magician.”

  “That is not possible!”

  “Who else would know how to stop Ober's poisons?”

  “Yes, I understand, but we cannot go past the guards to his cell,” Nance whispered.

  “Do you know how to reach the courtyard that serves as ceiling to the cell?”

  Nance thought I was leading us both to doom, but she was too terrified by Tarvik's condition to argue.

  With his cloak and tunic open and his head fallen back against the wall, his throat was exposed and it was dead white and motionless, no visible sign of breathing or of a pulse. He wore his velvet cloak, probably about as warm as a sweater and used for an extra layer in the unheated rooms. His legs stuck out straight in front of him, sheathed in velvet pants and soft boots, again indoor wear, and the position suggested he had stood with his back to the wall, shoulder against the corner, and slid slowly down until he was sitting, then tilted sideways into the corner. His hands were open at his sides, rings gleaming.

  Still dressed, not getting ready for bed unless he slept in his clothes, who knew? Oh wait, I did.

  He'd slid onto the sheepskins beside me in his tent that first night after we met, and he had on his pants but nothing else, no shirt, no shoes. Of course, that was summer, so I still didn't really know.

  His sword hung in its sheath from a peg on the wall. He hadn't been expecting trouble. It looked more as though he had invited someone into his room and the reason I thought that, and surely Nancy Drew would have agreed, was because there were a couple of fancy metal goblets on a tray on the table.

  I hurried over to them, picked them up.

  They were both empty. “The deathwalker, do you think he did this?”

  Nance whimpered.

  “Okay, let's figure out how to talk to the magician,” I said.

  Nance drew imaginary lines on the floor with her fingertip, explaining the rooms and corridors of the castle.

  “So there's only one room between us and the courtyard?”

  “I think so. It has been several years since I was free to wander the castle with Tarvik.”

  “Whose room is next to this?”

  “It used to be the chamber of Tarvik's nursemaid. She was an old woman who had once been nursemaid to Kovat. She died long ago.”