by Guy Antibes
They all nodded.
“Head back to wherever you came from. If the Empire comes calling for soldiers, tell them you’ll serve, but not as infantry. They’ll give you a chance to fight the way you want to.” Pol didn’t know if he spoke the truth, but he didn’t know what else to say. He had to get the men returning to their countries.
They watched the mercenaries return the way they came.
“Do you think they will do what you said?” one of the Seekers asked.
Pol shrugged. “We can take their place.” Pol pulled off the Winnower’s robe and his amulet. He found the face mask in the magician’s saddlebags while the magician was taken care of by the Seekers.
The skinny man finally came to. He rubbed his eyes as Pol walked up to him. He laid a truth spell on the man.
“Did you willingly join with the Winnowers?”
“No. It is all a bit hazy. I’m a healer from Solisya. I traveled through Galistya to seek my brother. It’s been years since we laid eyes on each other. On the way…” he shook his head to clear some cobwebs.
Where had Pol heard that voice before? He closed his eyes. The man at the stable before they reached Barna’s capital.
“You spoke to me in Ziastya.
“In the stable? I did,” the man’s face beamed. “I couldn’t find anyone to take me to Barna, so I was on my way home when I joined up with these men to travel to West Huffnya. Did you save us?”
“I did. You are free to head back to Solisya, although you might want to warn everyone that three armies may be headed through your country on the way to Yastan.”
The magician nodded. Pol helped him to his feet. “I thought my trek to reunite with my brother sounded wonderful, but it was harder than I thought.”
“They used magic to compel you. Your traveling companions were involuntarily drafted, as well.” Pol was less sure of that, but he wouldn’t tell a healer that.
“Where did you learn to heal?”
“A small monastery in Solisya dedicated to healing. There are only twenty monks and acolytes at a time.”
“I know a bit of healing,” Pol said.
“Yes, but can you see inside someone? That is the rare talent.”
“I have that ability. I use it for magic more than healing.”
The healer scoffed. “Look at my arm and tell me what you see.”
Pol examined the arm and saw that it had been pulverized a long time ago. It healed well, too well to be healed by itself.
“Your arm suffered a trauma. Perhaps a horse shattered your arm. It looks like an expert helped heal it. Someone at the monastery?”
“You can see.” He withdrew his arm. “Or perhaps you found out from one of the others here.”
“Do they know about your injury?”
The healer looked confused. Pol wondered if the man was in a perpetual foggy state.
“Well, no.” He looked at Pol.
“Then believe me when I can say I can look into people. I never had a chance to study healing. There is a lot more to it than looking inside someone. You need to know what to do, and I can fix injuries, but not illnesses.”
The healer clapped his hands and held them close to his chest. “You are right and wise. I will return to Solisya as soon as I retrieve my brother from the Winnowers.”
Pol saw the man’s pattern. “By yourself?”
“Mercy, no. I’ll join your group. Why do you think I let the Winnower put that spell on me?”
Pol shook his head, but he knew what the healer’s intent was. The problem with the man’s reasoning was he wouldn’t have the strength to break the compulsion, much less break his brother out. “Are you willing to learn a few tricks to help you with your brother?”
The healer grinned. “Of course.”
Shira pulled Pol out of earshot. “Are you seriously thinking of letting him come with us?”
“He won’t be heading south no matter what we do. We might as well make him useful, don’t you think?” Pol said. “I am Buck, and this is Dale.”
The healer giggled. “Very well. I will call you what you wish. I can tell that you all wear disguises, and Dale is a ‘she.'”
‘Can you see inside of people?” Pol asked.
“Of course. The monks wouldn’t teach us unless we could.”
“Did you see the magician’s protective ward?”
“That shimmery thing? I did. One of the men with the magician had a little comb on his brain. It looked greenish to me, like slime.”
Pol and Shira looked at each other. “Were you planning on removing such a thing from your brother?”
The healer shrugged. “That was where my plan fell apart. The spell kept me from wanting to do that. I wanted my brother to fight the Winnowers, not be one of them.”
“And now?”
“I can do what I want. I’ve always liked Hazett III. I even shook his hand once when he spent a few minutes at our Monastery.”
Pol smiled. “That makes three of us. Dale and I have shaken the Emperor’s hand before, too.”
“Wonderful. What were you going to teach me?”
“How to remove the mind-control spells and how to defeat the magician’s protective ward.”
“I can do that?”
“If you can see a ward, and that’s what the magician placed on your brain, then you can remove it.”
“What have we got here?” Hay said when the three Seekers emerged from the nearby wood.
“A new member of our company,” Shira said. “His name is…” She looked at the magician.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. My name is Cimet, spelled with a ‘C’ but pronounced like See. I see you.”
“He traveled with the magician. How can you trust him?” one of the Seekers said.
“You traveled with magicians. Should I trust you?” Pol looked at each of the Seekers.
They nodded in turn. Pol looked at Cimet. “Can I trust you? Will you do anything to bring us harm?”
“I’m a healer. I wouldn’t bring harm to you. I am yours to command.”
Pol removed the truth spell.
“You tweaked a spell on me?” the healer said.
“I did it to sharpen up your mind.”
“Some say that’s an impossibility.” Cimet giggled. “That’s all right. I trust you.”
“Is your brother a magician?”
“He is,” Cimet said. “I was told he leads the Winnow Society army.”
~~~
Chapter Nine
~
C imet fell to the ground immediately. Pol didn’t regret putting the man to sleep. He gawked at Shira. “Did I hear him correctly?”
“You sure did,” Hay said. “His brother leads the army or some such thing.”
“I had him in a truth spell,” Pol said. “How could he fool me? You can tell when someone is dancing around the truth, and he wasn’t.”
He sat on his haunches and looked at Cimet’s face. The healer looked so innocent. Pol put his hand down the healer’s shirt, but could not find a Winnow Society medallion. He leaned back and fell purposely to his backside, putting his hands to his head.
Shira looked shocked. “He’s an innocent,” she said. “Cimet thinks like a child.”
“Should we take care of him?” Hay said.
Pol shook his head. “There must be some way we can use him. I’m convinced he likes the Emperor.”
“He walked up to you in that dark stable and asked to be taken to his brother. He finally found a Winnower sponsor. He’s determined to locate him,” Shira said.
“Do you think the Winnower knew Cimet’s brother was a high-ranking officer in the Winnow army? I find it hard to believe that man’s kin runs the whole damn army.” Hay shook his head.
“We were a little quick to kill the Winnower, eh?” one of the other Seekers said.
Pol nodded. “Where we are going, there will be more. We’ll have to find out if Cimet will compromise us.”
“Another truth spell?”
/>
Pol did not know. “Maybe. He said he trusted us. We’ll need to have a long talk with him.” He looked down the road, but the mercenaries had already fled to the south. “We’ll have to catch a Winnower.”
He put his hand on Cimet’s forehead. “Wake up.”
“Did I faint again?”
“No, I put you to sleep. You scared us all.”
“Me? I didn’t threaten you.” He looked at Pol with innocent eyes.
“Your brother leads the army?”
“At least one of them,” Cimet said. “The Winnower said there were six.”
“Just how were you going to free your brother from the army he leads?”
Cimet looked from face to face. “I haven’t figured that out yet. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
One of the Seekers laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.
“Was your brother impressed by the Winnowers?” Shira asked.
“He was. He is renowned for his military mind in Solisya. He studied tactics at his monastery.”
“Which monastery was that?” Pol asked.
“Deftnis.”
“I’m from Deftnis. What is his name?”
“Ben.”
“Just Ben?” Shira said.
“No, no, no. That’s his nickname. He goes by Biloben. He’s my older brother.”
Pol looked at Shira. “Malden would have heard of him if he is renowned.”
He pulled out a rune book and sent a message to Malden. They prepared their horses to ride north while Pol waited for a reply.
Biloben is a Deftnis black. He was a genius in military tactics, but he disappeared some time ago saying he didn’t want to use his talents. Rumors were he sought solitude in the Kingdom of Lake. Why do you ask? - Malden
Pol sent back the bad news. He had no idea if the Winnowers compelled Biloben or if he joined the society of his free choice. If Cimet could bring him out of compulsion their trek into West Huffnya would pay off for the Empire.
“Your brother is known to my Deftnis friend, Cimet,” Pol said. “There is a good chance that he is under compulsion like you were. Are you willing to learn our tricks and penetrate the Winnow Society army to save him? We might not be able to follow you all the way in,” Pol said. “I want you to understand that our mission isn’t to retrieve your brother, but to find out what is truly going on.”
Cimet laughed. “I didn’t expect you to walk hand-in-hand into the lion’s den. Ben doesn’t intimidate me, but I am willing to give that a try if you can get me as close as you can to him.”
“All you have to do is get caught by them and ask to see your brother,” Hay said. “Pol can teach you the protection you need to keep your wits about you.”
Pol wondered how many wits Cimet possessed. He had nothing to lose except for Cimet to admit he had help getting to the army. They would have to flee from West Huffnya as soon as they cut Cimet loose.
Pol donned the magician’s robe and face mask. He put the Winnow Society medallion around his neck and led the others north towards the army.
They stopped to rest the horses. Pol and Shira taught the three Seekers and Cimet how to shield themselves from mind-control and compulsion.
“You can’t use the same shield for both. The mind-control is a tweak, and the ward is a magical mechanism that stores the tweak and provides the tweak’s trigger. For compulsion, there are a lot of layers, with each layer being expended with each command.”
“Oh,” Cimet said. “I know what you mean. I have seen only a few wards, and when I tried to deactivate them, they would always go off.”
“Mentally, you have to dissipate wards. I think of them fading away into little particles, which float off. Others use the thought of a wave washing the ward away.”
Cimet clapped his hands. “I like learning new things.”
“So we will practice on wards,” Shira said.
They spent the rest of the evening practicing. Cimet needed to visualize a wind blowing the ward away.
“Don’t flaunt your ability to protect yourself. You are in the middle of an army, and it would be unwise to become known until you are ready to meet your brother,” Pol said.
Cimet gave Pol a disgruntled look but did not complain.
“One other thing, deactivate every page in your rune book. If you are on the run from the Winnowers, burn it. We don’t want them to use the books against us, or figure out how to use them on their own.” Pol hoped that Blackburn had kept his rune book a secret from the rest of the Winnowers.
“I get it,” Cimet said. “The rune book is a strategic gem of great worth.”
Pol nodded. “It’s time to Seek.”
~
On their way, a group of twelve riders came up behind them, but then moved on. The men looked like the kind of ruffians they had seen in the town they met Backburn. Pol looked at Shira and nodded with relief. They did not want another confrontation while they sought out the Winnower army.
The road had seen a lot of traffic, and soon Pol noticed the stench of an army camp, as well as a haze in the air on the horizon. Cooking fires, he surmised, as they continued.
A guard post confronted them as they rode over a slight rise in the rolling grassland country of the eastern part of West Huffnya. A long pole extended over much of the road. It would not take a moment to run around it, but then the camp would likely erupt in alarms. The guard walked out with a writing board and a stack of papers.
“Brought some recruits?” the guard said to Pol, his face still covered with the mask emblazoned with the Winnow Society symbol.
“I managed to capture a healer,” Pol said.
The guard looked at them. “Which one?”
“Cimet, come here.” Pol said.
“Seemit?”
“No, Cimet. Ci is like ’see’ when you pronounce it,” Cimet said.
The guard looked a little perturbed. “Second army.” He gave Cimet a paper with a big letter ‘2’ at the top.
“The others?”
“Infantry,” Pol said.
The guard examined the three Seekers and Shira. “The boy’s horse will go to an officer. That will be Army Four.”
Pol moved Demeron off to the side.
“You’ll accompany them to their units, and then report to your commander. Wait here for a moment,” the guard said.
“Certainly,” Pol nodded. He waited for the others to move past him before he tried to move on.
“Wait,” the guard said, reaching up to grab Demeron’s bridle. “I asked you to wait. Where did you get that horse?”
“I, uh, found him along the way,” Pol said.
“I’ll need your medallion, magician, sir.” The tone of the guard’s voice meant that he hadn’t much respect for magicians. Pol dismounted and took his amulet off.
The guard turned it over. Pol had not paid any attention to the number on the inside, but the guard did. He wrote the number on a piece of paper and then noted the healer’s assignment and the others.
Pol did not know what the number meant. He touched the guard’s hand as he took back his amulet and saw the compulsion on his brain. Pol removed it after replacing the amulet.
“You look a bit unsteady. You should go in and sit down. I’ll help you.” Pol put a shield over the guard’s brain and removed compulsion on the other guard, while he helped his mate sit.
He jumped up on Demeron and ushered them all out of sight from the guard house.
“Both guards were under compulsion, so I removed the spells. I also put shields in place, so it will cause more confusion,” Pol said. “Now it’s time to start spreading a bit of free thinking.”
“We should split up,” Hay said.
“Dale, Cimet, and I will do the first army. You can take your pick. If things get too exciting, don’t return along this road.”
Hay snorted. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
“But I did,” Pol said, “because that’s what we will do. Cimet will give up and
ask to be taken to his brother. At this point, we are all on our own. Dale and I will be heading for Yastan.”
“We wish you well. See you back at the capital,” Hay said as he nodded to the two other Seekers and rode off down the road.
The Winnowers had organized their armies in numerical order. A sign noted the first army. Pol stopped to watch the Seekers travel up the row of men. He looked out at the first army and guessed that at least a thousand men were camped on the site. That would make an overall force of six thousand men if all the armies were the same size.
They turned onto a thoroughfare that ran the length of the camp. The Winnowers did not believe in uniforms, but each man wore a colored armband. Winnowers had no other indication of their army membership.
Pol turned to Shira and Cimet. “Tweak a band on your shirt to match the color of the armbands.”
He led them down an alley between tents, so they could tweak the color. Cimet’s was not even close to the right color.
“Are you colorblind?”
The healer shrugged. “Sorry.”
Shira quickly changed the hue of Cimet’s fake armband. A soldier passed by giving Pol the opportunity to remove mind-control or compulsion. Demeron urged his horse on before the soldier turned.
“It’s time to disorient,” Pol said.
Shira broadcast the mind-control spell while Pol and Cimet sent out a tweak to remove the wards. They continued to the end of the camp on one side and moved through officer quarters. Then they began to ride back towards the front of the other. The general noise level in the army went up, so when Pol saw a well-worn trail to the next army, he took advantage of the exit and turned to trot across a field that separated the armies.
The Second Army was a little larger to Pol’s eyes, but that might have meant tents spread out a little more. They stopped for a moment to change the color on their fake armbands and then proceeded to spread more confusion in the Second Army and found another path to the Third that led to the officers’ section. A group of officers, all uniformed, unlike the soldiers, stood talking in front of a large tent.
Cimet pulled up his horse and stopped. “Ben!” He jumped down and hugged his brother. “I’ve been looking for you.”
