Haunted Tree (The Magus Family Chronicles Book 1)

by Scott Robert Scheller

  “You will be but a speck in the sky. Once you see anything worth investigating, return to the ground and we will Envision it to learn more.”

  That made sense. Floating up several feet, he crossed his legs, ankles atop opposing thighs, and gathered the bottom of his robe into his lap before rising skyward.

  —Why did you do that?— Oren asked.

  —To look less like a man. From a distance I will appear more like a bird.—

  Oren laughed through the Link. —Quite clever of you.—

  Marc continued to rise until he was indeed higher than he had ever been before. Looking straight down, he fought the queasy feeling trying to overcome him. He estimated his elevation at nearly a mile. —Is this high enough?—

  —Quite. What do you see?—

  Looking to the northwest, he saw home, the Great Tree, the hot springs and many other landmarks he knew well. Turning southward, he clearly saw the pattern the paths and roads made on the land. There was Broken Rock and the area where Gildas had lain. Scrutinizing the roads beyond, Marc saw little sign of an army.

  —I see no one on the roads.— A brown smudge further off caught his attention. It looked to be a thin, horizontal cloud that spread out to the east for many miles. It seemed to originate just to the east of Red Cliffs and, judging from its proximity to the Roman road, it probably came from their nearest neighbor.

  —I see smoke in the distance. I believe from Fox Glen.—

  After a brief pause, Oren tersely Linked, —Return to my side.—

  Marc rapidly dropped down, slowing in time to make a gentle landing. Expecting a compliment from his master, he instead found him to be upset. “What is wrong?”

  “See the evil man can do,” Oren said, bitterly. “Envision Fox Glen.”

  Marc brought the image of that village into his mind—and nearly threw up. He saw the remains of a hut, its burned-out shell still smoldering. In the center of it lay the charred corpses of two adults and a child, their bodies twisted into grim shapes. A quick check of other nearby huts found more of the same grisly visage. In all, over half the village was lost to fire. Elsewhere bodies covered the ground, most with savage wounds from swords and battle axes. Unable to take any more, Marc pushed the vision away. Fighting off nausea, he struggled to keep his voice steady.

  “Dear God! They were butchered without mercy.” A wave of anger washed over him as a clear thought came hard to the forefront of his mind. “Crowe did this.”

  A tear rolled down the old wizard’s cheek. “It seems obvious he is responsible. We must journey there to be certain.” Oren sighed heavily. “I am sorry you had to experience that, but this is one reason you have been given your power. You, Valeria and I are here to protect others from those like Crowe.” Shaking his head, the wizard started for Oak Creek. “We will discuss this later. After it is fully dark, we will once more search for Crowe’s camp. Their fires will lead us to them.”

  Marc made a silent vow that whomever committed these heinous acts would pay for their sins. No matter how much risk he would have to take, justice would be meted out. And then, in that moment, he realized this must be the test he would face.

  Chapter 23

  Marc sat on one of the benches before the village altar, away from his former neighbors, and ate his meal in silence. Images of murdered villagers haunted him, still vivid in his mind. He knew some of those people and it seemed difficult to accept they were dead. That the whole of Fox Glen was gone, no more. Maybe some of them managed to escape. He hoped so. He struggled to understand how anyone could slaughter an entire village. What kind of madness possessed them? The mindless carnage of it sickened his soul. Footfalls interrupted his thoughts as Oren and Valeria came to sit on either side of him. He sensed the elder’s unease.

  “Master?”

  The old wizard regarded them a moment before speaking. “I have to tell you something important, but I have been reluctant to do so until now.” Oren stared at the ground. “It is difficult.” Regret and sadness emanated from his teacher

  Valeria leaned past Marc and put her hand atop Oren’s. “If we are to know this, then speak it without fear of how we might react. Truth is truth.”

  The master’s face rose to meet hers. “You are a wise and gentle person. I pray you remain so.” Patting her hand, Oren sat up straight. “There is no easy way to say this so I will be blunt.” The wizard’s gaze locked with Marc’s, sending a chill through his body. “There will come a day when one or both of you will have to kill someone.”

  Shocked, Marc recoiled a bit, bumping against Valeria. “You want us to commit murder?”

  “Never. But you will undoubtedly encounter evil men who lack goodness or mercy in their hearts, their souls filled with wickedness. The worst of these criminals are the ones you may have to act against.” The wizard’s voice softened. “Like the men who murdered the people of Fox Glen.”

  What did Oren ask of him? Criminal or not, Marc had no wish to become an executioner. “I could kill, but only in defense of myself or another. Even then I would rather use my magic to render them harmless in some way, much as you did with Portaeus.”

  Oren slowly nodded. “That is often the best choice. Still, there will be occasions when you must kill because otherwise the person will continue to do evil. You and Valeria are able to judge them wisely for you can look into their minds and know their crimes and intentions. After we encountered Portaeus, you asked me why I spared his life. Even then, without the skills you now possess, you knew he was corrupt and unworthy of the life the Creator had given him. Did he not deserve to die?”

  “Yes, but you changed him, put the fear of God in him.”

  “No, I put the fear of me in him. Once away from us he reverted to his old ways.” Oren stood and faced them, a sorrowful cast to his gaze. “Think much on this. I will be with Garrett if you need me.”

  Once the master left, Marc turned to Valeria. “I need to walk about. Join me?”

  Her smile lifted his spirits. “Certainly.”

  Departing the village center, they headed east into the trees. The cool fragrance of the forest and the warmth of her hand in his did little to settle his thoughts. Until now he believed being a wizard only meant helping people, a role he gladly accepted. But this new responsibility promised to be most unwelcome.

  Valeria pulled him closer, bringing their sides together. “Your thoughts reflect mine.”

  She always found a way to make him feel better. Sometimes it only took her presence. “Who am I to judge someone’s fate? I’m as sinful as the next man.” They walked a while in silence before he quietly asked, “Could you kill someone, Val?”

  They continued for several dozen paces, then she sighed and gave a single, firm nod. “If need be. Remember the day you fought off the wolves, when Thaddeus pointed that spear at you? If I had command of my magic that day, I would have killed him and felt no guilt over it. And it’s not just because I love you, but because he intended to murder another.”

  “But Oren didn’t—” Marc froze in place, his whole being tingling.

  Still holding on to him, Valeria stopped as well, dropping her voice to a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

  —Keep silent. I sense a threat nearby.—

  She looked about. —Where?—

  He stretched out his magic and found a man trying to approach the village unseen. —Southeast. See him?—

  Her magic surged outward, heading in the direction he indicated. Moments later, he felt her Envision the stranger. —Yes. He may be a spy for Crowe’s camp.—

  —We better warn the village.— Marc Linked to Oren. —Master?—

  —Yes?—

  —A man is creeping toward the village, about four hundred paces off to the southeast. He carries only a short sword with no pack or torch. We think he may be a spy.—

  —Return immediately. I will have everyone hide the weapons they have been making, then meet in the common house. We must make the spy believe we intend to side with C
rowe.—

  As he and Valeria hurried back, Marc appreciated all the practice Oren had put him through. Without it he may have never sharpened his skills enough to detect the spy so early.

  Entering the village near the common house, Valeria veered to the right. “Oren hasn’t finished telling everyone yet. I’ll take the people to the north. You go south.”

  “Agreed.” Quickly sweeping the arc of huts to his left, Marc quietly informed everyone of the news then headed for the common house with the rest of the villagers. The tense emotions in the room ran high, nearly overloading him. Doing his best to push the sensations aside, he turned his attention back to the intruder.

  Hopping onto the talking stone, Garrett silenced the people, talking low. “The wizards tell us there is a spy drawing near, possibly a member of Crowe’s forces. He must be made to think we are ready to submit to Crowe’s rule, otherwise we will be attacked. Do you all understand?”

  A sea of nodding faces responded as Garrett looked to Oren. “How close is he now?”

  “Seventy-five paces, but he’s moving faster now,” Marc answered, his heartbeat quickening.

  “And he is most definitely Crowe’s man,” Valeria added in a quick, loud whisper. That she could read the man’s thoughts from this far, especially with the distractions of everyone’s fear and excitement, impressed Marc.

  With a nod of acknowledgement, the village leader spoke even quieter to all, “Our visitor is close. Let us begin.” Speaking quite loudly, he continued. “And, as I said before, the agent for Lord Crowe assured us that we would receive the same protection from him as we did from the old king.”

  —The spy heard Garrett speak just now,— Valeria Linked to Marc and Oren. She then caught Garrett’s eye, pointed to her ear, then to the southeast. The leader nodded in understanding.

  While Garrett continued his ruse, Marc followed the spy as he moved directly toward the common house. Reaching the edge of the trees, the man looked about then dashed over to the building’s wall, crouching between two barrels. Valeria whispered into her father’s ear, who then grinned slyly and spoke up.

  “What of the taxes on our crops and livestock?”

  Marc and his fellow wizards pointed energetically at the wall behind them. Garrett nodded again. “Lord Crowe was a faithful servant to our former king, God rest his soul. I trust he will be as fair, carrying on the tradition of his predecessor. Well, we have discussed this for hours. It is time to decide. Do we agree to swear allegiance to Crowe?” A great noise of affirmation rose from the crowd, loud enough that Valeria covered her ears. “Good. Now return to your homes and sleep well. Tomorrow we will make preparations to welcome our new king.”

  Feeling the spy’s surge of satisfaction as he slipped back into the woods, Marc laughed inwardly knowing those preparations included arrows and spears. A fine welcome indeed.

  Oren headed out the doorway as he Linked with Marc. —I will follow the spy. Stay here for a short time to be sure no others are watching. Afterward, float up high and find their campfires. See what you can learn but take great care not to be discovered.—

  —Yes, Master.—

  Garrett and several others, including Sean, approached. The leader pointed at the wall, eyebrows raised.

  “The spy is gone,” Marc said. “Oren is following him.”

  “Good. My thanks to both of you for learning of his approach. Had he caught us preparing to fight—”

  “There is no need to thank us for the magic wanted you to know of the danger he posed.”

  The ease at which those words came to him intrigued Marc. While their usual purpose was to remind others of the false premise that magic held the true power, he actually meant what he said. His abilities were not earned, but God-given. No amount of labor or study could make them come forth to those not so destined. This knowledge humbled him. Realizing Oren also understood this made Marc respect him even more.

  Separating Garrett and Sean from the others, he led them to an empty corner of the room, his heart heavy with the information he needed to share. “Has Oren spoken to you of Fox Glen?”

  Curious, Garrett shook his head. “Not a word.”

  “Nothing,” Sean said.

  “You should know that resisting Crowe is very dangerous.” He told what happened earlier that day. Sean was shocked, but Garrett only shook his head again.

  “Even more reason why he should not be king.” The man’s gaze hardened. “Our only choice is to fight, but we have an advantage that Fox Glen did not. Forewarning, plus two wizards and a witch.”

  “Then victory is ours,” Sean said with confidence.

  “Not necessarily,” Valeria said.

  Sean looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean? I thought magic is all-powerful.”

  “It is, but we are not. Magic allows us some things, denies us others.” She took Marc’s hand. “But the power we are allowed makes us a formidable enemy.”

  Sean smiled slightly. “Then that will be enough.”

  Marc hoped his friend was right.

  — o O o —

  After several checks of the area around Oak Creek, Marc and Valeria found no others lurking nearby. When he was about to Float up high, she insisted on going with him.

  “You clothing is too light,” he said. “You might be seen.”

  “Not a problem. Come.”

  Wondering what she meant, he followed her to her parent’s house. They were alone. From within her pack she pulled out a dark brown wizards robe and held it against her body, smoothing out the larger wrinkles in the fabric. “I started on this after learning the Great Secret. It’s not completed yet—no pockets or secret folds—but the rest of it is wearable.”

  Eyeing it carefully, he noticed the cut of it to be much more feminine than his own robe or that of Oren’s. “It’s beautiful, just like the woman who made it.”

  Smiling, she gave him a peck on the lips. “Guard the door.” As he blocked the entrance to the hut, Valeria quickly stripped off her travel cloak and donned the robe. He tried to ignore the beauty of her form, but his thoughts must have betrayed him for she sashayed over and gave him a more languid kiss. “I like how you look, too.” With a breezy laugh, she squeezed past him. Trying not to laugh himself, he moved after her.

  Hurrying south into the woods, they Floated up as he had done earlier. Marc found the view astounding, even better than during the day. Far to the west, the ruddy remnants of sunset ebbed away. Below, the dim contours of the landscape could be seen, the textures softening with increasing distance. Forests, a deep blue-gray with a hint of turquoise. Open spaces, slightly lighter with a bit more green. Bare earth clearly stood out, especially roads and paths, visible as ghostly gray lines. All illumination came from the stars; the moon had yet to rise.

  “It’s beautiful,” Valeria said with near reverence as she slowly looked around.

  “Yes, it is. With everything so dark we should easily spot any fires.”

  “I see one already—no, make that two, close together.” She pointed at them.

  He saw them as well, two bright points of flickering light off to the southeast. “It must be Crowe’s camp. That’s the direction the spy came from.” To be thorough, Marc searched further. “I see more fires. Due south but further away. I wonder who is there?”

  “If you’ll Envision those, I’ll do the first two.”

  “Fair enough.” Concentrating his thoughts, he guided his magic along his line of view and the image of three widely spaced fires arranged in a large triangle blossomed within his mind. Enclosed inside the triangle were several good-sized tents and many warriors. He tried to count them but found it difficult because they moved about. Some tended to their weapons, others cleared spaces to bed down. Several men prepared a boar for cooking. Widening his view, Marc found six men on patrol outside the camp.

  “What did you find?” Valeria asked.

  “A big camp. It’s hard to tell exactly, but I would guess there are around fifty-five m
en. All armed fighters. I can’t see much detail Envisioning from this far. I need to get closer. What of yours?”

  “Only eleven men, all heavily armed, and Oren is watching them. Should I contact him?”

  “Certainly.” Marc lightly grasped her forearm to share in her Link.

  —Master?—

  —Valeria. I see you are also searching for Crowe’s men. What have you found?—

  —Two camps for some reason. The one you are at and another further south with over fifty men.—

  Marc thought it strange for Crowe to have two camps. —What of the spy?— he asked.

  —He came directly here and reported to Crowe. Our ruse worked. Go to the far camp and learn what you can. Go with God.—

  Oren’s concern carried over the Link, giving the emotion a kind of weight all its own. They knew the danger they faced and the fear they needed to contain. —And with you, Master.—

  Returning to the ground, they headed south at a brisk walk, making better time than they could by Floating, plus saving the strength of their magic. Even so, it took over an hour to reach the camp. They halted at a distance of about fifty paces outside of the path of the patrolling guards. Valeria’s skills had not advanced enough to repel arrows and spears sent her way, so Marc sought a secure place from which she could watch. Spotting a nearby tall tree, he pointed at an upper branch. —That looks safe enough, Val.—

  Letting out a near silent huff of resignation, she Floated up into the tree and lowered herself into a sitting position on the limb. —Be careful.—

  Because the moon had recently risen, he lifted himself to treetop level and approached the camp from the west so as not to be seen silhouetted against it. The pleasant aroma of roasting pork met his nose as he drew close to the nearest fire. Finding a sizable, mushroom-shaped tree with dense foliage, he settled into the top of the canopy, squatting on an upper branch. The leaves blocked the firelight yet allowed him to be within twenty feet of the ground. Immediately below, a patrolling guard passed by unaware of his presence. To his left, two men guarded a large tent while many others sat around the fire.