Wizard Pair (Book 3)

by James Eggebeen

  "We would also like to work with you as a pair. Can you come to see us each day, just after the evening meal? We can show you how to use your powers to their fullest and how the pairing works." She looked from Rotiaqua over to Zhimosom. "Would that be acceptable?"

  Before they could answer, the door burst open. A young Wizard charged into the room, panting and out of breath. "Master Alwroth ... We're under attack ... Dragons."

  Court

  Sulrad returned to his room in Ryden. He had to find a way to secure access to the treasury. He studied the royal family and learned as much as he could about the castle staff. When ever he was able, he used his magic to seize one of the staff and question him. He probed for weaknesses in defenses, for opportunities to enter by stealth, anything that might aid in his quest.

  He exercised patience, more so than he had believed himself capable of, but this was a critical step in his plans. His first attempt could not fail and if it did, there would not be an opportunity for another one.

  One afternoon, he was chatting with one of the cooks from the castle, who was in charge of confectioneries. Her name was Wy, and she had a light complexion with sandy brown hair. She was slightly overweight, but not extremely so, and could have been called beautiful in the dim light of the inn.

  A serving girl had taken ill one evening and the King had summoned Wy to the royal hall to serve in her stead.

  "The King is worried about foreign spies," she explained.

  "How so?" Sulrad asked.

  "He thinks there are spies in his court, listening in on every conversation and plotting his downfall."

  "Spies? Go on." Sulrad poured her another mug of ale.

  "He is afraid of poison, so everything he eats or drinks must be tasted in his presence."

  "Where does he think these spies come from?"

  "He does not know. He suspects one of the Barons." She laughed a slight laugh that made her look much younger than Sulrad at first guessed. "I think he's imagining things."

  Wy leaned in closer to Sulrad and spoke in a hushed tone. "He's mad, you know. He imagines threats where there are none. He's constantly on guard against perceived attacks.

  "Just last night, I heard them say he feared to place the crown on his head because he believed someone had bewitched it." She raised the mug to her lips. "Mad, I say."

  Sulrad's heart raced. If the King was worried about the crown, he might take advantage of that fear. This could be the opportunity Sulrad was waiting for. He had what he needed to convince the King to let him see the treasury.

  "Am I making you nervous, Dearie?" Wy placed her hand on his, waking him from his reverie.

  "No, of course not." Sulrad grasped her hand gently and looked into her empty eyes. She would make a good sacrifice to power the spells he would need in the coming days.

  Sulrad spent the next few evenings plying Wy with ale until he was able to talk her into introducing him into the castle. He kept his impatience in check as he listened to her chatter about the goings on in the kitchen, grasping at any tidbit of information that he could use.

  The day came when Wy said she had secured Sulrad's admittance to the castle as a petitioner. He was to locate the Guard that Wy had described and pay him one Gold to be admitted. Sulrad woke early, donned his freshly laundered robe, and walked confidently into the audience chamber.

  Sulrad waited his turn, listening to the poor and downtrodden begging the King for intervention in their petty affairs until Sulrad thought he would go mad with impatience. Finally, the Guard called his name and he stepped forward.

  King Omrik looked down on him with disinterested eyes. Sulrad bowed as he had been instructed, keeping his face towards the floor as he spoke.

  "Your Grace, I come not to ask a favor of you, but to offer my service. I am a Wizard with information about spies operating in your realm. I have come to warn you of a plot against your life."

  "What?" the King leaped up from his throne and took several steps toward Sulrad before his advisers rushed to intercept him. They quickly stepped between the King and Sulrad, forming a barrier to keep the King safe.

  "What do you know? Who's out to kill me?" King Omrik asked.

  "The Baron ... Baron Rieck ... Your Grace, he covets the throne for himself," Sulrad lied.

  King Omrik struggled to get past his advisers, but they held him back.

  "Let me talk to the Wizard." King Omrik pushed at the wall of functionaries, but they held fast.

  "In the private chamber. After we've searched him," one of the King's advisers said. They shepherded the King into a side chamber, closing the door behind them.

  A Guard grabbed Sulrad's arm, hauled him to his feet, and dragged him towards the doorway through which the King had departed.

  Flanking the door was a pair of Guards, who searched Sulrad thoroughly, and finding nothing dangerous, allowed him entry.

  King Omrik sat behind a long table surrounded by elegant chairs. Guards stood on either side of the King, spears at the ready. The table was wide and clear of anything that might be used as a weapon.

  Sulrad bowed once more. When he rose, King Omrik motioned him to a chair across the table. "Sit."

  Sulrad took the proffered seat and waited for the King to speak.

  "What you say ... the Baron ... I have always suspected him of coveting the throne for himself." King Omrik lifted his chalice. A young man came over, took a sip from it, and handed it back. Omrik watched the boy for a while, and then took a deep draught. "Tell me about his plan."

  "The Baron has hired a Wizard to enchant the crown jewels. He has placed a spell on them that is undetectable by any means other than magic. Should you or anyone else wear one of these jewels, the spell will be triggered, and the results will be fatal."

  "Which jewels?" Omrik demanded.

  "I do now know, Your Grace. I would need to examine each piece. Hold it in my hands and test it for any spells that it might contain."

  "So you can do this? You are a Wizard?"

  "No. I am a Priest of the one true god, Ran. My power does not come from the Wizardly arts, but is a gift from Ran, for my devotion."

  "How do I know you are not the Baron's spy?"

  "You cannot," Sulrad said with a sly smile.

  "What a dilemma." King Omrik stroked his chin. "What am I to do with you, then?"

  "You could trust me, or you could test me." Sulrad knew this was the tricky part, but he was getting a sense of the King and how he would react to the next suggestion Sulrad made.

  "Test you?"

  "Test me. Let me take your food tester to don each of the crown jewels. Should he trigger one of the spells, you will know I speak the truth." Sulrad watched the King for a reaction.

  Omrik glanced at the boy, then back to Sulrad, then back to the boy. He smiled and raised his hand. "Guard, take this Priest to the treasure and watch as the boy tries on the crown jewels. Keep an eye on both of them."

  "Yes, Your Grace." The Guard motioned to Sulrad and the boy.

  The treasury was brilliantly lit with torches placed in sconces along the walls. Sulrad had envisioned heaps of gold and jewels piled on tables in some dark and dingy dungeon. These were carefully arranged, and inventoried. Each piece had its own bin with a carefully written card that described the piece and where it had originated.

  Sulrad cast his eyes around the room. It was dedicated to head-wear and filled with crowns, bejeweled helmets and even fancy hats studded with gems and precious metals. He didn't see anything like the amulet he sought.

  Sulrad dutifully stood in the center of the room. He probed the chamber with his magic trying to find the amulet, but it was not in this particular room. He would have to craft a ruse to continue their examination.

  "Here." Sulrad pointed to a small gold circlet that could be worn as a head-band. "This one feels suspicious."

  The Guard motioned to the boy, who lifted it from its perch and set it upon his head. It was too large for him and threatened to slip down ove
r his ears, but he was unaffected by it.

  "Try this one." Sulrad pointed to a crown cast of solid gold and encrusted with precious stones.

  The boy tried it on; again, there were no consequences.

  "I'm sensing it's part of a necklace. Is there a room where such things are kept?"

  "Yes, Sire." The Guard nodded to a doorway off to the side of the main chamber. They entered and lit the torches. Sulrad cast his eye around the room. Far off in one corner, he saw it. The Charm of the Joiner. His heart raced, but he quickly caught himself. He pretended to search for a specific necklace until he laid his eyes on a particularly thick chain that bore a card indicating it was a gift from Baron Rieck.

  "This one." He pointed to it.

  The Guard nudged the boy, who lifted it from its stand and placed it around his neck. Sulrad reached out with his magic and cast a strangulation spell.

  The boy coughed and turned a dark shade of plum. His eyes grew large and he lifted his hands to his throat. He sputtered but no sound came forth. The lad fell to the floor, doubled over, struggling for breath but finding none.

  The Guard stood over him without taking action to save the boy.

  Sulrad watched the final choking gasps of the boy. When he was certain the boy was dead, he knelt down and took the necklace in his hand. He focused power on it and warmed the gold until he could barley touch it. He stood and handed the necklace to the Guard.

  "Here, you must bear witness. I have defeated the spell. It is safe now, but I would advise a note be made so that the King does not don this particular necklace. I'm not certain the spell is completely neutralized."

  The Guard grasped the necklace and quickly returned it to its stand. He turned back to look at the boy, dead on the floor. "How can you be sure this is the only one?"

  Sulrad shrugged.

  "Come with me." The Guard escorted Sulrad back to the King's chamber.

  "Your Majesty, the Priest has found the cursed item. Your taster is dead." The Guard shoved Sulrad forward.

  "I knew it. There are spies everywhere. I need your protection. You will be my chief Wizard. You will serve me and I will reward you well."

  "Your Majesty, I crave no reward. I only asked to serve you and to defeat this threat. It has been averted. I must get back to my tasks."

  Sulrad bowed and retreated, but before he could get far, King Omrik stood up and yelled. "Stop. You will serve me. You will continue to test my clothes and jewelry for me."

  Sulrad hesitated, stopped and bowed. "If I might be allowed to fetch my possessions and tell my loved ones where to find me. I will return as you have commanded."

  "You go with him to make sure he returns." The King pointed to the Guard who had accompanied Sulrad to the treasury.

  The Guard escorted Sulrad to the inn.

  "Please have a seat." Sulrad waved to a chair by his table. "I will make you a nice cup of tea while you wait. It won't take but a moment. I will gather my belongings while the water heats."

  Sulrad busied himself packing his precious belongings. He would be leaving tonight, but not to the Castle. He mixed the herbs and potions into the cup of tea. The Guard had barely finished his drink when his eyes fluttered and closed. His head dropped to the table with a thud.

  Sulrad left the Guard asleep in his room. He made his way to the inn where he usually met Wy. She was happy to see him and welcomed his attention.

  "I have guests staying with me," Sulrad told her. "But I have found a special place I want to show you tonight."

  "Where?" Wy asked.

  "It's not far, but I'd like to show it to you before sundown. It is most beautiful at sundown. We must hurry." Sulrad stood up and held out his hand. "Come."

  Wy obliged him, and he led her out of the town to a secluded grove of trees. He had chosen the spot carefully. In the center of a ring of stately oak trees, a large boulder stood with a flat top not unlike his altar. Sulrad had carefully scribed the spells he used in the Temple on the rock in preparation for their visit.

  A gap in the trees allowed the setting sun to penetrate and illuminate his makeshift altar.

  Sulrad led Wy over and sat and patted the cold granite. "Sit here for a bit. This is the part that I love."

  Wy looked around at the trees and rocks nearby. She sat on the boulder and nestled into Sulrad's outstretched arm. "What did you want to show me?"

  "Wait. It's almost sunset."

  "Why? What happens at sunset?" Wy asked.

  "This." Sulrad reached around her with his sacrificial knife and sliced through her throat when the sun struck the rock. He chanted the spell that would take her life force, and drew it into himself. She turned to a swirling cloud of golden dust and vanished just as the sun sank below the horizon.

  Sulrad reveled in the power as he absorbed Wy's life energy. He'd needed more power to take on the Sorceress, lest she defeat his plan before he had a chance to execute it. He would need Theria's power to carry out the next phase.

  He looked back at the rock as he walked from the grove. It was a pity; Wy had been a good companion. It was too bad she knew where he was staying and would have given him away.

  Amulet

  Sulrad rushed to Theria's home from the grove where he had sacrificed Wy. He secreted his sacrificial knife up one sleeve and spelled it to hide it from her. He hoped she would not sense it, or his purpose.

  Theria answered the door, once again barring his entry. "Not so free with the Gold this time?"

  "I just wanted to come and thank you, before I depart. Your advice was most helpful. My Lord Baron will be pleased."

  "I suppose I could make you a cup of tea. You can tell me your tale of the castle. I admit to a weakness for gossip."

  She let him in and put a kettle on the fire to boil. While it heated, she ground spices and bark into it. Sulrad watched for an opening to take her magic, but decided he'd wait until they'd finished their tea. After all, he could use a little company, even though this meeting was going to end badly for the woman.

  Theria poured the tea and sat across from him. She was a good listener as he regaled her with tales of the castle, and how he had been allowed to glimpse the crown jewels. He was beginning to regret the necessity of his visit when he felt light headed. His throat was dry and the tea had refreshed him, so he drank more. Too late, he realized that it only made make matters worse. He saw double, his speech slurred. His arms felt heavy and he lost control of his bladder.

  "You think me a fool?" Theria stood up, leaned over him and reached for his knife. Sulrad could barely make out what was happening. Why was she blurry? Why was she hovering like that?

  Sulrad crumpled to the floor. He felt the weight of the Sorceress as she knelt down, on his chest. She bent over and put her arm on his throat and pressed down with all her weight. She leaned in so close that Sulrad felt her breath even as he himself could not breathe.

  "Not so sharp now, are we?" Theria said. She placed the point of the knife against Sulrad's temple and traced a line of fire towards his jaw. She repeated the process on his other side. Sulrad screamed in pain as she continued drawing on his skin with the knife. Theria smiled at him through the fog and distortion of the drug.

  The pain seared into Sulrad's brain with each cut of the knife. He wrestled with the magic of the potion as she sliced away at him. The pain distracted him, but eventually, he found it. The spell was based on rotting swamp plants and festering wounds. He let his anger well up in him and directed it against the poison. He grasped for the magic and channeled it towards the knife, the special knife that was meant to separate the magic from a dying Wizard, but it would work on a living one, too.

  He drew her magic out of her, pulling particularly hard at the poison. Sulrad felt it separate from her. He directed it at the knife, willing it to absorb that magic.

  The disorientation lessened. The clearer Sulrad's thoughts became, the easier it was to remove the poison spell from his mind. Soon, he was completely free of its effects. Sulrad was
heartened; he knew he could win. He bucked hard in an attempt to dislodge Theria from his chest.

  She loosened her grip and Sulrad rolled away from her. She slashed at him as he bucked, trying to dislodge her. The effect of the poison was fading, but he was far from his normal self. She sliced him on the arm, opening a slash that spattered blood across the room.

  He cradled his arm and rolled behind the table, knocking it over, trying to put something between himself and Theria. She hit the table with a thud and it rocked over, landing on top of him.

  Theria reached around the table, slashing wildly. She caught him in the leg this time and a burning pain shot through him. Blood trickled from the wound.

  He tried to push her off him, but her weight on top of the table was more than he could lift. She slashed again and again, each time striking a little deeper in his flesh. He tried to recall a spell of binding to use on her, but his memory failed him.

  He pushed on the table once more, trying to dislodge her. He saw her foot hit a pool of his blood and slide from beneath her.

  The pressure on the table lessened and he pushed it off. Theria sat stunned on the floor, knife in hand. He lunged at her, grabbing for the hand that held the knife. He missed it and she thrust the knife into his arm, once more searing his flesh.

  Pinning her to the floor, he dropped his knee on her arm. He outweighed her, but not by much. Strength was his only advantage now. He reached for the knife, prying it from her fingers. He slashed his own hand in the attempt, but he managed to force the knife away from her.

  He brought the knife to her throat. Breathing hard, he looked her in the eye. "I don't think you a fool. But I do need your magic."

  Sulrad sliced through her throat and spoke the words of the spell that would take her magic. Her power rose out of her, wrapped around him and slowly sank in. He fell to the floor as she turned to a shower of sparks and vanished.

  He quickly performed a spell of healing to staunch the flow of blood from his wounds. He didn't want to heal himself completely, or else taking her magic would have availed him nothing. He needed her power to travel to the vault and return again. He could not waste it on himself, no matter the pain.