Skimming over their emotions, Marc found some of them unsettled, others wished they were elsewhere. A few gave off a sense of mild excitement, the nature of which roused his curiosity. One man in particular strongly radiated this yet unknown emotion. After pondering it for a time Marc realized its nature: the thrill of the hunt. Stalking prey. Chasing it. Killing it. Delving deeper into the man’s emotions, a sudden wave of nausea swelled within Marc.
The prey he pursued was his own kind. People.
Steeling himself, Marc continued to read the man—Tomar—and saw brief images of women, children and unarmed men being mercilessly slaughtered, coupled with a lustful pleasure of killing. Able to tolerate no more, Marc withdrew his contact and took a ragged breath—this man overflowed with true evil. An evil which displaced all kindness, compassion and love, separating Tomar’s soul from his mind and leaving behind nothing in its place but an emptiness devoid of anything human. No, the malicious corruption he sensed felt more than just empty. Tomar was filled with Nothingness.
Valeria’s mind touched his. —What’s wrong?—
With a heavy heart, he told her. —Tomar, and others here, enjoyed murdering the people of Fox Glen. Read him and see the evil within. I call it Nothingness.—
Moments later, the horror and sadness she felt came across their Link. —He’s barely human any more. Evil has eaten away all of the good in him. There are others like him in camp, too.—
—Yes. Let us inspect the remainder of the men and be gone from this wretched place.— Rising, he began to move west but too late realized the hem of his robe had snagged on a small branch. Breaking free, the limb snapped back into place with a loud rustle.
“Who goes there?” shouted a nearby guard.
Marc instantly stopped, his pulse thumping in his ears. The guard circled around the tree looking upward, an arrow at the ready. Marc knew he could not Float up quickly enough to prevent being spotted. Or shot. Two other guards ran up.
“What is it?” one of them asked.
“Not sure. A noise came from up in that tree.”
Marc’s mind hazed over with panic.
—Hold still,— Valeria said as a gray blur whisked by him and vanished into the leaves of the tree. Immediately a frenzied owl burst out, flying rapidly away.
The second guard laughed. “It’s just an owl. The great threat has been defeated.” Laughing, the men returned to their patrols.
The tension drained from Marc as he joined Valeria on the branch above. —Thanks. Where did you find that owl?—
—Flying around me, no doubt curious about…—
A sudden commotion erupted in the southern part of the camp. “Help,” a man shouted. “The prisoners have escaped.”
Marc looked at Valeria with raised brows, tipping his head in the direction of the sound. —Let’s see what this is about.—
Together they Floated south, finding another tree from which to watch. A short, stocky man stumbled slowly toward the center of camp, a bloodied hand held against the back of his head. A tent stood fifteen paces behind him. Others ran his way. The first to reach him briefly examined his wound. “How did this happen, Varro? They were but two girls.”
“Someone struck me.”
“And the prisoners?”
“Gone.”
The man pointed at the rest. “Go. Find them.”
As the others scattered into the woods, Varro touched his wound once more, wincing. “One man, maybe two, came up behind me and knocked me out.”
Marc felt the lie.
“Is that so?” called out a commanding voice. The man seeing to Varro bowed as a tall figure dressed in black strode forward, followed by the remainder of the camp. A bolt of fear struck Marc. Thaddeus! Although very faint, he saw magic’s glow about him. Barely stifling a gasp in time, he glanced at Valeria. Her incredulous expression told him she noticed it as well. Thaddeus had magic? How could this be?
Varro dropped to one knee. “Lord Thaddeus, I was overcome by an intruder who rescued the prisoners.”
Thaddeus looked him over, then curtly gestured toward the man’s middle. “Do you often guard prisoners with your pants undone?” The man quickly stared at the ground. His interrogator leaned closer and sniffed his breath. “Do you also consume strong drink while guarding Lord Crowe’s captives?” Putting the heel of his sandal against the man’s forehead, Thaddeus pushed him over backwards and, stepping over the prostrate Varro, continued on and entered the tent.
Marc Envisioned the interior, careful to hide his magic the way Oren had taught him lest Thaddeus detect his presence. Thaddeus picked up a spear and examined the blood on the butt end of it. Tossing it aside, he moved toward the back and plucked four leather strips from the dirt. With a snort of disgust, he tramped outside and kicked the prone form hard in his stomach.
“Stand before me, you wretch.” A cold, dark anger flowed from Thaddeus, causing the hairs on Marc’s arms to prickle—a vile, greasy presence that stank of rot and the grave. The Nothingness within Thaddeus dwarfed the amount inside of Tomar. Regaining his feet, Varro lowered his head as Thaddeus moved around him like a wolf circling its prey. “You lied to me and everyone else. Those girls were not rescued.” He dangled the leather straps before the man. “If they had, these bindings would have been cut. You untied the eldest to have your way with her. As you dropped your pants, she struck you with a spear. It would have been better for you if she had run you through.”
Thaddeus’ face grew ever more livid while his voice remained icily calm. “Did you think no one would find out? Fool. Traitor. Those girls were for Lord Crowe’s pleasure, not yours.” He thrust the straps toward the nearest man. “Bind this dog. If we regain the girls unharmed, kill him quickly. If we do not, let Tomar slowly peel the skin from him.”
Varro bolted but the other guards were prepared and had him held fast before he could take a second step. As he begged for mercy, Thaddeus turned away and, finally releasing his rage, harshly addressed the other men. “Find them!” They immediately fanned out in all directions, disappearing into the night.
Disgusted, Marc risked a weak Link to Valeria. —We have to find those girls first.—
—I already have.— She shared her vision of the two making the best speed they could through the trees. At once they Floated up high, clear of the trees, and headed after them.
Marc alternated his view of the girls with that of the closest pursuers. One of the men seemed likely to reach them first. He drew Valeria’s attention to him. —We need to distract this man. Can you Push a sound or image into him?—
—I’ll try.— Sharing the illusion with him, Valeria created a voice of a girl saying, “This way. Run this way.”
Marc watched the man come to a halt and cock his ear. —He heard you. Well done.—
—I don’t know how to make him think the sound is coming from a certain direction.—
—Let me try.— Marc rustled a bush thirty paces to the man’s left and he immediately slunk toward the noise. Going further out, Marc snapped a few twigs and branches. Valeria’s magic swelled for a moment after which the man ran in the new direction. Marc made several more noises well along the man’s path. —That should put him far enough away.—
—We best return to the ground. It’s faster than Floating and I’m beginning to tire.—
—Good idea.—
In a matter of minutes they caught up with the girls, their magic allowing them to better move through the dark forest. Seeing Marc, the eldest girl urgently told the other, “Keep going.” Skidding to a stop, she spun about and took on a fighting stance, deep gray eyes glaring in anger. As he slowed, Valeria passed him on the right.
—I’ll get the other one.—
He gestured for the girl to stay still. “Easy. I won’t hurt you.” With a growl of rage she came at him, fingers held claw-like. In a flash he recalled a time when he had angered Gwen and how she demonstrated that a woman’s fingernails made surprisingly effective weapons. He still
carried the scars.
With a sweep of his arm, Marc softly commanded, “Volitā.” Instantly, the girl lost her footing and rose several feet, her long, curly, light brown hair floating weightless about her face. After a moment of panic her fire returned. “What is this? Who are you?” Although angry, she knew enough to keep her voice low.
“I am the wizard, Marc, here to rescue you, Barbara. Men from the camp are near. If you cry out, they will come this way.”
“A wizard?” She lowered her hands. “What will you do with me?”
“We will take you and your sister to the safety of Oak Creek.” Feeling her fear abate, he lowered her to the ground and drew near. “Did they... hurt you in any way?”
She shook her head. “You said ‘we’. Who else is here?”
“Valeria,” Valeria said, walking up with the younger girl in tow. Barbara gave her a respectful nod.
Marc scanned the area. “Two men are close by.” He turned to Barbara. “We will Float both of you away from here. Hop on my back and remain silent.” While she complied, Valeria had the other girl do the same. As one, he and Valeria softly said, “Volitā,” and rose up high.
Barbara’s sister let out a gasp of fear, closing her eyes tight. “I’m... I’m scared. I don’t want to fall.”
“Hush, Rufa,” Barbara whispered. “These are wizards and we are safe.”
“Wizards?” Rufa opened one green eye and looked at Marc. “Like Oren?”
“Yes,” Marc said. “Valeria and I are his apprentices.” Hearing that, the girl visibly relaxed.
Drifting slowly in order to conserve their magical strength, they passed within view of the camp. Marc spotted Varro below, tied between two trees. Barbara saw him as well for her fingers dug deeply into Marc’s shoulders, making him wince. At the northern edge of the camp, he became aware of strong emotions from beneath them, but the distance and cacophony of many thoughts made it difficult to immediately sort things out.
—Val, what do you feel from the men below?—
—Most are alarmed, excited. One is quite frightened. He seems familiar.—
Marc began trying to Envision that person when Valeria’s thoughts slammed through his mind. —It’s Don! They’ve captured Don!—
Chapter 24
With shocked disbelief, Marc tried to understand how Donald came to be in the enemy’s camp. The last time he saw him, his onetime-friend had finally witnessed clear and undeniable evidence Valeria cared for another. For Marc. He knew Donald had suspected this for a time—hence the ire directed Marc’s way—but seeing them holding hands earlier in the common house proved to be too much for his pride. That, plus his father’s rebuke at his volunteering to—
The truth hit Marc like a knife to his heart. —Val, Don tried to spy on them.—
Dread carried across her Link. —We’ve got to rescue him!—
A heaviness settled upon his heart as he realized the cost of the responsibility he and Valeria shared. —We cannot. There are five men about him. If we defeated them, Thaddeus would know others were spying on him as well. Maybe luck will be with us and Don can convince them he’s no spy.—
Marc sought out the elder’s mind. —Master?—
—What is wrong?—
—Donald has been captured spying on the larger camp.—
After a moment of surprise, then worry, the master’s thoughts calmed. —Do nothing to make yourselves known.—
—Can we not help him?—
—Possibly, but remember, he chose to ignore Garrett’s wisdom. Do not let his foolishness become your own.—
—But they will kill him,— Valeria Linked, deeply worried.
—Not right away. Crowe would have immediately done so, but Thaddeus is more careful and will question him first. Our priority is the safety of Oak Creek. Tell Sean of Donald’s capture and to prepare for possible attack. I will join you as soon as I am able.—
After Oren broke the Link, Valeria drifted closer to Marc and took his hand. She shook with fear. —Why did I not foresee this?—
Barbara shifted position on Marc’s back and whispered into his ear. “Is something wrong?”
He nodded gently. “A friend of ours has been caught spying on the men who attacked your village.” Torn whether to continue on with the girls or stay and watch over Donald, he reasoned it would best serve his people to remain for now. —Let’s hide the girls and see what happens.—
Valeria nodded. —That tree I used earlier has a good view.—
—Fine.—
Backtracking to the tree, they put the girls on an upper branch.
“Remain quiet and still,” Valeria told them. “We will return for you soon.” As they Floated toward Donald’s position, Valeria Linked, —Help me contact Sean. You lift the amulet and I will give him the message.—
Envisioning Sean, he found him sitting with Garrett, Ethan and others, fashioning spears from freshly cut branches. When the amulet lifted from Sean’s chest, the men stopped their work and stared warily at the stone. Valeria said:
Friend Donald is missing, not to be found,
Detected while spying, by Crowe’s men bound.
Those who serve magic, will watch him this night,
Make ready the village, make ready to fight.
Letting the amulet drop, Marc felt Sean’s agitation. Not wanting to witness Garrett’s reaction, he released the Envisioning and turned his attention to Donald. Crowe’s men half led, half dragged him deeper into their camp, his face bloodied, taking him to the large tent Marc saw earlier. One man forced Donald to kneel while another went inside, returning with Thaddeus. Marc’s insides twisted into knots.
Thaddeus stood before Donald. “Who are you and why did you spy on my camp?”
Donald looked him straight in the eye. “Claudius, and I am no spy. While hunting I saw your camp and wondered who you were and why you needed three fires.”
“Then you were spying.”
“Just curious, no more.” Donald pulled against the men holding him. “Now let me go.”
Thaddeus struck Donald on the face. “You lie,” he said, his voice calm and devoid of emotion. “Tell the truth or you will suffer the same death as that man.” He pointed at a well-bloodied Varro whimpering in his bindings. “He lied to me as well. Tonight he will beg for death as his skin is slowly cut from him.” Thaddeus produced a dagger, placing it under Donald’s chin. “I will allow you one more chance.”
Donald’s gaze shifted to the ground, his face still elevated by the blade. “Yes, I spied on you, but my village knows nothing about it. I wanted to do so but my—but the village leader forbid it saying it would anger Crowe.”
“Lord Crowe.”
“Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.” Thaddeus removed the dagger and Donald’s head dropped to his chest.
“Then why did you disobey him?”
“I—I—” Donald slowly shook his head.
“Answer me.” Thaddeus waited for a long moment and, seeing his captive remained silent, nodded at the man on Donald’s right, who savagely backhanded him, knocking him to the ground. Marc was startled to feel some of the pain of that blow. Donald attempted to rise but the man put his foot on him.
“I have not been accepted as a man by my village,” Donald said, his voice quaking with fear. “I thought by showing enough bravery, that might change.”
Thaddeus gestured at the man, who removed his foot. “You have not been made a man because you think first of yourself, not the good of your people. You do not respect the wisdom of those more experienced than you. Because of your foolishness, your village will now pay the price.”
Donald rolled to his knees, looking up at Thaddeus in anguish. “No. Please don’t punish them for my mistake. Punish me. They want peace. I know they will serve Lord Crowe well.”
This puzzled Marc. When Donald left the village the plans were to fight. So what made him think of the same ruse as his father? Marc knew he lied, but Donald hid it well, much better than when
he claimed to be Claudius. Maybe Thaddeus’ weak magic could not detect this current deception. For the sake of their home, Marc hoped so.
Thaddeus paced slowly for a time, watching Donald closely. “You asked that I punish you instead of your village. Do you know what that means?”
Donald wiped at the blood trickling from his nose, his gaze once more upon the ground. “I will die.” He glanced at Varro. “Unpleasantly, most likely.”
Thaddeus smiled coldly as the men around him nodded approvingly. “Surely you did not think that by disobeying your father’s orders you would be thought of as a man.” Donald looked up in shock. “Yes, Donald, son of Garrett, I know who you are.”
Marc felt defeat come from his friend, who lowered his head once more. “There’s a girl in my village I much desire.” Several of Thaddeus’ men smirked knowingly at each other. “She loves another, a friend of mine. I thought if I did something really brave, she might realize my worth and love me more. But instead, I destroyed our friendship and endangered my village. I would give anything to undo what I did.”
Valeria’s hand tightened on Marc’s as tears flowed from her eyes. Marc’s own were far from dry.
Thaddeus crossed his arms and studied Donald for a time. “You have gained much wisdom this night. If you were under my leadership, I would now grant you your manhood.”
Donald managed a weak smile. “My thanks, but what good does it do me now? If you’re going to kill me, please be quick about it.”
“Not yet. I like your spirit. You may also be useful as a bargaining point with your father should that prove necessary.” Thaddeus turned an iron stare toward the two men holding Donald. “Bind him well, guard him well. We do not want any other escapes this evening for Lord Crowe returns on the morrow.” The men paled and bowed their heads in acknowledgement.
A wave of relief washed over Marc; Donald would remain safe for a time. The men took him to the same tent the girls had been kept in; one guard posted inside, four outside. Any rescue attempt would be quite difficult. If they were to try something, it would be vital that Donald was aware of it.
—Val, we should let Don know we are near.—
Haunted Tree (The Magus Family Chronicles Book 1) Page 27
