A March into Darkness dobas-2

by Robert Newcomb

  The three women looked at one another with confusion. Shailiha was about to ask Wigg another question when Abbey shook her head. For the next quarter hour they rode in silence. As Scars finally brought the coach to a stop, Shailiha looked out the window.

  The peasant-class neighborhood was shabby and forlorn. Street light was in short supply. The ramshackle houses lining either street side seemed to drunkenly lean up against one another for support, giving the princess the distinct impression that if one collapsed, the others would fall like dominoes. Whores seductively prowled the corners, while dark male figures lingered in the shadows. She couldn’t imagine an acquaintance of Wigg’s living here. The First Wizard quickly exited the coach and shut the door, purposely leaving the women behind.

  Shailiha scowled. “I thought you said you were taking us with you!” she protested.

  Pulling his robe closer, Wigg looked up and down the street. “If I am allowed entrance, I’ll request that you three be admitted with me,” he said. “Scars will stay with the coach. If you see me signal, you may come. Should anyone approach you, order Scars to charge the carriage up the-”

  Suddenly Wigg stopped. After looking at the three perturbed women then up at the glowering Scars, he shook his head.

  “On second thought, I’m more afraid for anyone trying to give you trouble than I am for you four!” he said. “Just wait here!” Turning away, he strode toward the house.

  Shailiha peered at the ramshackle structure. It seemed much like the others, save for a wooden sign hanging perpendicular to the street. Craning her neck, she was surprised to see that the sign carried no words. One side bore the carved likeness of a snake; its other side carried a sword.

  Wigg walked up the steps. Still hoping that he was doing the right thing, he knocked on the door. The door soon creaked opened to show a young man dressed in a dark robe. Golden light streamed from the house’s interior to cast Wigg’s elongated shadow onto the street.

  “May I help you?” the fellow asked.

  “I humbly request to see your master,” Wigg said. Knowing better than to say more, he remained still.

  “Why?” the man asked.

  “I am an old friend,” Wigg said. “I admit that my visit is unexpected. But if you tell him that Wigg is here, I believe he will see me. I have brought three friends who also seek admittance. Our visit carries some importance.”

  “It’s late,” the man said. “He sees no one at this hour.”

  From their places inside the carriage, the women could see that Wigg was having difficulty getting inside. It wasn’t like the First Wizard to take “no” for an answer, Shailiha realized. If this was that important to him then why didn’t he use the craft?

  Then she watched Wigg do something odd with his robe-something she didn’t understand. As he did, the craft’s azure glow appeared. The young man’s eyes quickly became as large as hen’s eggs. Wigg smiled politely.

  “Now then,” he asked, “may we come in?”

  “Uh, er-yes, yes of course,” the fellow answered. In his hurry to open the door wider, he nearly tripped over his robe.

  Turning toward the carriage, Wigg waved the women forward. Once they were atop the steps, Wigg snatched the cigarillo from Tyranny’s mouth and threw it into the street. The privateer scowled.

  The man beckoned them inside. The house’s interior wasn’t what the ladies had expected. The foyer was small, but well lit and immaculately clean. The walls were constructed of wooden panes. Covered with paper, the uniform panes made it difficult to identify the doorways.

  The man bowed to Wigg. “Please wait here,” he said.

  After Wigg returned the bow, the man slid open one of the well-disguised doors, then disappeared, smoothly closing it after him.

  Tyranny looked around. “What is this place?” she asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Nor are you likely to again,” Wigg answered softly. “It’s important that no one speak unless first addressed. I’m not sure about what kind of reception we might get, so do as I say. And above all, take no provocative action. Despite the fact that I command the craft, doing so will likely get you killed.”

  Shailiha shot a questioning glance at Tyranny and Abbey. The privateer scowled again; Abbey simply shrugged her shoulders.

  The paper-paned door silently slid open and the same young man stepped into the foyer. “The master will see you,” he said simply. “Follow me.”

  Everyone stepped through the door to see a long hallway stretching before them. Like the foyer, its walls were made of paper panes. On reaching the hallway’s end, the man stopped. He bowed to Wigg.

  “He awaits you,” he said.

  Wigg bowed in return. “Thank you,” he answered. His job done, the man walked away.

  Wigg looked closely at the curious women. “Remember what I told you!” he whispered. “And if you are asked to speak, keep your voices quiet, and your tones respectful.”

  Sliding open the door, Wigg led them inside. The room was large. The floor was covered with a straw mat, and the four walls were constructed like those in the hallway. Exotic-looking weapons hung neatly on the walls. Oil lamp sconces provided soft, even light.

  In the floor’s center, an elderly man sat on his knees. His eyes were closed, and his shaved head reflected the light. He wore a heavy white upper garment that crisscrossed his chest. A black, skirted affair, tied at the top with a narrow cloth belt, covered his hips and legs. His strong-looking hands lay folded in his lap. A dark wooden tray holding a porcelain tea set sat on the floor before him.

  Wigg immediately sat on his knees before the stone-still man. Looking up at the women, the First Wizard indicated that they should also sit. They quickly complied to form a line on Wigg’s left. While the four visitors regarded their host, the room fell quiet.

  As time passed, the accompanying silence became deafening. Wondering how long this might go on, Shailiha cast a curious glance at Tyranny. The privateer questioningly raised her eyebrows.

  Finally the man opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp and penetrating. He looked straight at Wigg, then he bowed. Wigg returned the compliment. After looking at each woman, the man bowed to them in turn, then returned his riveting gaze to the First Wizard.

  “Wigg,” he said softly. “It has been a long time. Because of the Directorate’s agreement, I believed we would never see one another again. Yet for some reason you have chosen to violate that accord. In truth, I cannot say that I am sorry. Why have you come, my old friend?”

  “Please forgive the intrusion, Aeolus,” Wigg said. “I come bearing news-news that only I could bring. For as I’m sure you know, the Directorate is no more.”

  Choosing not to respond, the man named Aeolus sat stock-still before them.

  “Satine is dead,” Wigg said gently. “I learned from her tattoos that she was one of your students.”

  For the briefest moment a hint of sorrow crossed Aeolus’ eyes. “Did she die a warrior’s death?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I see,” Aeolus said. “Who did the deed? Few walk the earth who could have bested her.”

  “Prince Tristan,” Wigg answered. “She had him dead to rights, but she hesitated just before delivering the fatal blow. Sensing the opportunity, Tristan struck. Her death was quick. Were you two close?”

  Aeolus nodded. “Satine was like a daughter to me, and perhaps the most gifted student I ever taught. She was a force of nature, that one. But she abandoned my teachings to become a professional assassin. I tried to dissuade her from that path, but I couldn’t.”

  Aeolus knew that his next words would strike directly at Wigg’s heart, but the issue had to be raised. The guilt had been weighing on his soul for far too long, and he wanted to be rid of it. He took a deep breath.

  “How many Conclave members did she assassinate before the prince killed her?” he asked.

  Wigg’s jaw dropped, and his cheeks turned scarlet with rage. It took several moments for hi
m to calm before speaking again. Even then, anger flashed in his aquamarine eyes.

  “You knew?”he asked, his voice trembling angrily. “Why didn’t you warn us?”

  “The choice forced upon me by Satine was unfathomable,” Aeolus answered. “What’s done is done, and I can only ask your forgiveness. When I learned of her plans I begged her to reconsider, but she wouldn’t. In the end I had two choices-to not warn you and let fate take its course, or to tell you and ensure that the one I loved most in this world would meet a violent death at my dearest friend’s hands.” Pausing for a moment, Aeolus looked down at the floor.

  “Forgive me, but it is widely rumored that your only daughter recently died,” he said. “I am truly sorry for your loss. But tell me-if she had insisted on fulfilling some deadly mission, would you have warned her enemies that she was coming? And if not, can you justifiably condemn me for making the same choice?”

  Thinking of Celeste, tears clouded Wigg’s eyes. He then blinked them away.

  “I understand,” Wigg said, “but we lost two dear allies to Satine’s skills. One was Geldon, a hunchbacked dwarf with the heart of a lion. He had been invaluable in the Coven’s final defeat. The other was named Lionel the Little. He was a Shadowood gnome, and Faegan’s most trusted herbmaster. Satine poisoned them, using a clever potion she purchased from a group of partial adepts called the Valrenkians. It caused her victims to go mad, leading them to suicide while she escaped. Faegan discovered it in their blood. Did you teach her that technique?”

  Aeolus shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I tried warning her against dealing with Valrenkian slime, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  Stunned by what she was hearing, Shailiha cast a quick glance at Abbey. The herbmistress was staring straight at Aeolus. She looked for the world like she had just seen a ghost. Remembering what Wigg had said, the normally inquisitive princess did her best to remain silent.

  “How did you find me?” Aeolus asked.

  “As I’m sure you know, Minion patrols wander the city, maintaining order,” Wigg answered. “I told them to search out a sign with a serpent on one side and a sword on the other. Only yesterday they told me that they had found it.”

  “I see,” Aeolus said. “And who are these lovely ladies?” he asked, turning to look at the women.

  Wigg gestured toward Shailiha. “I would first like to present Shailiha of the House of Galland, Princess of Eutracia,” he said.

  Aeolus bowed deeply at the waist. “Welcome, Your Highness,” he said. “This is indeed an honor.”

  She bowed in return. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  “And this lady is Teresa of the House of Welborne,” Wigg said. “You already know Abbey of the House of Lindstrom. All three are Conclave members.”

  Aeolus bowed again. Tyranny and Abbey respectfully returned the compliment.

  “It is good to see you, Abbey,” Aeolus said. “I am glad that you and Wigg have found each other again. The Directorate was wrong to have banned the partial adepts from Tammerland, but those were difficult times.”

  Their mouths agape, Shailiha and Tyranny stared at Abbey with disbelief.

  Aeolus reached out to fill five teacups. Everyone took one. After sipping the excellent brew, Aeolus looked at the women, then back to Wigg.

  “I can tell by Shailiha’s and Teresa’s expressions that they do not know about me,” he said. He looked back at the princess and the privateer. “If you have questions, I will be happy to answer them.”

  Shailiha didn’t hesitate. “Who are you?” she asked. “And how do you know so many old secrets?”

  Taking another sip of tea, Aeolus smiled. “The answer is simple,” he said. “I was once a member of the Directorate of Wizards.”

  The princess nearly dropped her teacup. Tyranny’s face screwed up with disbelief.

  But Abbey only smiled. “It is good to see you, too, Aeolus,” the herbmistress said. “You’re right-it has been a long time.”

  “More than three centuries,” Aeolus replied. “Wigg was right to grant you the time enchantments. He took a great risk, should the Directorate have found out. But with all of our old friends gone, that no longer matters.”

  Shailiha finally found her voice. “You were a Directorate wizard?” she asked. “That’s impossible! I would have known about you!”

  “It was long before your time,” he answered. “I decided to leave the Directorate soon after it was formed. I had had enough of war, politics, and magic. I wanted a simpler life. My Directorate brothers graciously agreed to accept my resignation and to continue granting me the time enchantments. You have never heard about me because as part of that agreement, the Directorate resolved that they would never mention me, or our pact. I doubt that even your father, the late King Nicholas, knew about me.”

  “I have never seen a place like this,” Shailiha said. “What purpose does it serve?”

  “It is called the Serpent and the Sword,” Aeolus answered. “It is a school of martial discipline. I am the owner and head instructor. It is also my home.”

  “So that is what Wigg meant when he said that Satine was your student,” Tyranny offered. “Is that also why she bore a snake tattoo on one arm and a sword tattoo on the other? We saw your interesting sign hanging over the outer door.”

  “Yes,” Aeolus answered. “The sword tattoo indicates weapons mastery, and the snake indicates mastery of unarmed combat. Satine had conquered each discipline. Such experts are few. Before the Directorate was formed, I was a Royal Guard officer. During that time I studied these disciplines. When I left the Directorate I decided to devote my life to carrying on my master’s teachings. I still command the craft. But as part of my lifestyle, I choose not to do so.”

  “There are some things that you need to know,” Wigg said to him. “They will surprise you.” Taking his gaze from Shailiha, Aeolus turned his dark eyes toward the First Wizard.

  “Faegan and Jessamay are still alive,” Wigg said. “They have also become Conclave members. They are well, although Faegan is crippled from being tortured by the Coven, soon after he disappeared. His legs are useless and cause him great anguish, but he controls the pain by partitioning his mind. He searches endlessly for a way to unravel the spell Failee used on him. Unfortunately, he has not been successful.”

  “I see,” Aeolus answered. “I am glad they are with you. Please give them my regards, and my hope that Faegan finds a cure.”

  “There is something else you should know,” Wigg said. “It is vastly important to all we hold dear.”

  Saying nothing, Aeolus took another sip of tea.

  “Thirty-one years ago, Jin’Sai andJin’Saiou were born. The Chosen Ones have finally entered the world.”

  For several moments Aeolus said nothing. Wonderment filled his face. “They have finally come?” he whispered. “Can it be true?”

  “Yes,” Wigg answered.

  “And the azure glow surrounded their twin births, just as the Tome said it would?”

  “Yes,” Wigg confirmed. “As you know, that was how we could be certain.”

  “Who are they?” Aeolus asked.

  “TheJin’Sai is Prince Tristan. TheJin’Saiou is Princess Shailiha.”

  Awestruck, Aeolus looked at Shailiha with even greater respect. “Welcome, Jin’Saiou, ” he said. “We have awaited your arrival for centuries.” Aeolus bowed again. Shailiha bowed in return.

  “I have come here for another reason as well,” Wigg said. “I need your help.”

  “You have but to ask,” Aeolus said.

  “What do you know aboutK’Shari?”

  Thinking for a moment, Aeolus poured himself some more tea. After taking a sip he put down his cup then looked at Wigg.

  “I am not surprised that you have heard about it,” he answered. “However, despite the many legends, to my knowledge I am the only living person in the world who commands the gift. But I never discussed it with you, or other Directorate members. After all these years, why
do you ask about it?”

  “TheJin’Sai has been lured away by a Vagaries being named Xanthus,” Wigg answered, “who is also known as a Darkling, and serves the Heretics of the Guild. Until several days ago, I never knew about such a creature. It was evident that he commandedK’Shari. Should he return, I will need to know more about this special talent.”

  Aeolus shook his head. “I doubt that this Xanthus truly commands the gift,” he said. “As I stated, I believe I am the only one to possess it.”

  “Before arriving at the palace, Xanthus sent Tristan a blank scroll and a freshly cut tree branch,” Wigg said. “Witnesses saw Xanthus cut the branch in half in midair.”

  It was clear that Aeolus was intrigued. “Go on,” he said softly.

  “Later at the palace he used his gift,” Wigg said. “Tossing his axe into the air, he cut a flier of the fields in half while the butterfly was in flight. He never bothered looking at his target. I have never seen anything like it.”

  His gaze intense, Aeolus leaned forward. “Tell me,” he said. “Just before he threw his axe did he say anything odd-an oath, perhaps?”

  “Yes,” Wigg nodded. “He said: ‘My ears hear no begging. My eyes see no pain. My heart feels no remorse.’ It is also said that a long time ago, a sword master first showedK’Shari to an impudent young Royal Guard officer as a way to spare killing him in a duel. Have you ever heard the phrase or the story?”

  Like he was being taken back in time, Aeolus closed his eyes. When he opened them, his expression softened.

  “Yes,” he answered gently. “You see, I was that Royal Guard officer, and those words were my master’s. It was before I met you, and before I learned about my endowed blood. The martial master who saved my life by refusing my stupid challenge was the same man from whom I took over this school. As you know, in my early youth I was a penniless orphan. Joining the Royal Guard seemed the best way to raise myself up from the streets where I lived and begged. But for a long time after that I foolishly felt that I had much to prove-thus the unnecessary challenge to the master. By showing meK’Shari he not only saved my life, but forever changed my path, as well. Little did I know that I would one day rise to become a wizard of the Directorate. Even so, I never forgot him. I never told my fellow Directorate members about the story because I found it embarrassing.”