Moonstone, Magic That Binds (Book 1)

by Guy Antibes

  Lotto tried to keep from smiling but Morio was non-plussed. “Actually, it’s my sister.”

  “Of course.” She turned to Lotto, pointedly ignoring Morio. “Are you ready for your first tidbit of information?”

  “The Red Kingdom is sending men over the border looking for the lost princess. These are soldiers, not the usual rabble of thieves fleeing from the kingdom that we’ve had in the past. They haven’t come this far, but I expect them at any time. I hear they are rounding up any women that look like Princess Sallia. They’ve got a wizard with them to eliminate any glamour that might have been placed on her. Word has it that they are heading with a group of captured women to Everwet.”

  Morio just sat there, blinking. Lotto now knew him well enough that he seethed inside and with good reason. Such an incursion betrayed the sanctity of Gensler’s border.

  “Anything else?”

  Polla pursed her lips, sat straight up and tilted her head. “The people on the southern border are concerned that our Duke has not put enough troops down here to protect them. If the Red Kingdom invades they will roll right through the main road all the way to Crackledown—unimpeded with the forts unmanned. They’ll bog down there and won’t be able to move an inch farther north.”

  Morio’s eyebrows rose. “Thank you and that’s why we need your perspective.” He laid his hand on hers. “I will personally let the duke know.”

  Polla laughed and pulled her hand away. “You and Duke Jellas?” She tossed her head and thought for a minute. “Please let someone know who can do something. It truly doesn’t need to be the Duke himself.”

  A large group of farmers walked in. “Polla! Bring your best, we’ve just raised Esman’s barn and we’re here to drink you out of stock!” The men all laughed.

  The innkeeper jumped up. “Our slow period just ended. I’ll make sure you get served first before I start in on that lot… and they will drink me dry.” She grinned and tapped a purse kept in the pocket of her dress. “Got to get to work.”

  A serving maid came right back out with two mugs of ale apiece. “There might not be more when you want it.” She curtseyed and ran back to the kitchen.

  Morio laughed as he took a long pull of the ale. “That’s not half bad!”

  “I think we can trust her,” Lotto said, looking back at the door to the kitchen. “We have to get word to your father.”

  “I’ll do that. I’m more concerned about what she said about Histron’s army having a clear shot up Gensler. We have an old strategy to stop him, but I know that Eberlo’s been sitting on its implementation and I don’t think that my father knows anything about border incursions of any kind. I always thought that Eberlo had re-manned the border forts.” Morio’s expression darkened. “I’ll be heading north at daybreak. You know enough of your way around here to poke further south on your own.” He waved his fingers. “There’s always that magic to fall back on.” He smiled and took another drink. “For now, let’s just enjoy the antics of farmers celebrating. Free entertainment.” Morio sat back and observed the farmers’ yells as a bout of arm wrestling had just started up.

  The next morning, as the sun just began to lighten up the sky, Lotto shook Morio’s hand and they departed in separate directions. Time would tell if their little network of innkeepers would gather sufficient data, but Morio certainly looked bothered by Polla’s comments of the previous night. What alarmed Lotto was the fact that Eberlo might be under the sway of Dakkor or its agents. Gensler could be seriously exposed if he was. He hoped Mario wasn’t too late in telling his father that the string of forts weren’t manned.

  There were more woods in the south of Gensler and the ground became more uneven. The travel slowed with patches of snow on the ground. Gensler’s natural border with Happly and the Red Kingdom consisted of rivers and mountains. Perhaps not tall mountains, but certainly wooded hills which would slow the progress of an army with a few well placed forts or barriers that would make the main road impassable and, sure enough, he passed two empty keeps.

  In a few days time, he passed more villages and reached the next town of Everwet. A rushing river made its way along the west side of a valley and ran north a bit until it took a sharp bend west to become the border with Histo until it joined with the Fargo far to the north. Lotto could feel a mist in the air that likely gave the town its name.

  A crowd stood around the entrance to one of the town’s inns.

  “What’s going on?” Lotto said as he dismounted.

  “Slavers or something,” a man said, standing with folded arms, but craning for a look into the inn.

  A battle went on inside and Lotto stood at the door trying to discern whom he could help. He cast the leather sleeve off of his battle staff and could see a clutch of women huddling in a corner. A man, young and tall, fought half of a group of eight soldiers, while others battled with a man with an apron. Neither fought with skill, but it only took a few seconds to know that he would fight on the side of two against eight, especially after he someone call them Red Kingdom soldiers. He waded into the group and began to twirl his staff above the tables and chairs and began to rain blows in the heads of the men who were herding the women.

  Just as one of the soldiers skewered the well-built man in the shoulder and raised his sword to finish him off, Lotto slammed the side of his staff against his head, sending him reeling. More of the attackers noticed him and he drew them away from the injured man. These men were no match for a student of Kenyr’s and in a few minutes all had been dispatched by Lotto.

  He looked over at the carnage and didn’t notice the blow that felled him from behind.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ~

  LOTTO CAME TO IN A STABLE IN THE EARLY MORNING. He rose, but didn’t feel any dizziness. After finding that his weapons had been stripped, he picked up a pitchfork and crept though the side door. The soldiers could have killed him, but someone did him the favor of dragging him out of the inn.

  What would have happened to Restella if he were killed? Then he wondered what would happen to him if she were killed? He didn’t know, but he felt so foolish being out of control and not knowing what would happen. He couldn’t live his life worrying while he fought.

  Four soldiers sat at a table guarding the women, who sat on the floor. One of them took each woman and muttered a spell and peered at his subject. Polla had been exactly right. A wizard worked to remove another’s spell.

  He noticed that one of the women, tall, slender with hazel eyes and golden hair, fiddled with a poker from the fireplace and hid it between the folds of her dress as she was called to stand up. The magician began to recite the spell and as the woman thrust the poker into the magician’s stomach, her hair turned the color of straw and her eyes turned violet.

  “That’s the princess!” one of the men said as she took care of the magician.

  Before they could grab her, Lotto stepped into the room and slammed the handle of the pitchfork into the man’s face and quickly subdued the others before they could draw their weapons. The magician began to rise and pulled the poker, which hadn’t gone in very far, out of his stomach. He raised it to attack the princess when Lotto spoke the spell to heat the poker up. He concentrated on the handle and the heat came on so quickly, that the magician couldn’t shake it off as he yelled and the smell of burning flesh filled the common room. The pain overcame the magician long enough for the princess to take a fallen sword from the floor and stabbed the man. “Traitor,” she said and then she collapsed into a chair.

  “Tie them up,” Lotto said. “I have no rope.” The barman, with his arm bandaged, came from the back with a reel of rope and soon the locals ran into the inn and, within a minute or two, three men sat on the floor with their backs against the bar while a serving maid tended to their wounds. The magician had been laid out with a sheet covering his body.

  “Thank you,” the blonde woman said as she rose from her chair. Lotto could see the kind of bearing that he h
ad noticed in Restella.

  “Princess Sallia?”

  She furrowed her brow and shook her head looking away from him. “No, I’m an imposter, but you can call me Sally. Duke Histron’s magician,” she paused to look at the sheet, “has been moving from place to place along the border villages of the Red Kingdom and Gensler examining young women. I was a decoy for the real princess.” She lifted her chin but her eyes still darted about nervously.

  That woman didn’t look or act like a decoy, but Lotto would play along for now. “Where is the man who fought for you yesterday?” Lotto said to the barman.

  “He’s upstairs in a back room. They were going to sort through the women yesterday when he burst through the door, a few minutes before you did. We dragged him up the stairs and you to the stable while the magician, who hit you in the back of the head, used his magic to overcome us and then the remaining slavers were back in charge.” The innkeeper shrugged as he left and returned with Lotto’s weapons.

  “Can I thank him?” the princess said, looking up the stairs.

  “You can go up and see if he’s awake. He’s badly injured,” the barman said.

  Lotto helped the princess to the stairs and followed them both up the stairs as three official looking men dragged the bound soldiers out of the inn. Lotto didn’t know what would happen to Red Kingdom soldiers fighting so deeply into Gensleran territory.

  The man lay on his stomach. A pad of blood-soaked rags covered the shoulder wound.

  “What is your name?” the princess said.

  The man paused and turned his face to the wall. “Anchor. Are you all right, …miss?”

  Lotto noticed that he nearly used an honorific. The man knew that the last of the royal family of the Red Kingdom stood in this room. He must have been embarrassed that he didn’t save her.

  “I give thanks to our mutual savior.” She looked at Lotto and gazed into his eyes. Restella had this woman’s bearing, but none of the composure. He took a step back and stopped himself from bowing.

  Lotto tried to laugh. “I’m glad that both of you are out of danger. However, imposter, I think you need to be far away from here. More Red Kingdom soldiers would make life difficult if they invaded and one of the townspeople pointed you out as the decoy.”

  Anchor made a sound, but Lotto couldn’t understand it. He turned his head. “Yes. Take her far away.” The man’s concern came through loud and clear to Lotto.

  “I’ll take her to Crackledown and I have, uh, friends there that will keep her safe.” He turned to the princess. “The border is no place for you, especially now.”

  Her eyes met his and Lotto felt a stirring he hadn’t really felt before. The woman attracted him like no other. He blushed and Sally just smiled and that mouth made him a little dizzy. He had to turn his gaze on Anchor.

  “Are you well enough to leave here until you recover?” Lotto said, walking around the room avoiding her gaze.

  “I am not. Just take her away as far as you can. If Duke Histron has spies about, they will tell him that the woman has been taken deeper into Gensler and that might protect her. Don’t take her to Happly. They are allied with the Red Kingdom and are preparing for war with Valetan.” Why did this man care so much for the woman? She hadn’t appeared to know him. “I will. You are a soldier?” Lotto said.

  “Of sorts, but as you could see my weapons skills are but mediocre. I am more of a strategist, but my talents are not for the usurper. I am true to the Red Kingdom. Currently, I am unemployed. I recently came from Happly and you must believe me that Duke Happly assembles an army to head north to Valetan. I thank you for saving the young lady. It is my sincerest wish that she be made safe.”

  The man certainly spoke well, better than any common soldier that he had known. “Stay here for awhile. I will talk to the Duke, uh, or his people, and see if I can get a post for you. I agree that Happly is at war or soon will be,” Lotto said.

  Anchor coughed. He didn’t sound very well. “Please get the message to Valetan. Happly is hiring mercenaries and wizards. I’m not going anywhere soon.”

  Lotto led the woman out and stopped her in the hallway. “Here we talked about what’s good for you without really asking. I apologize for that. Are you willing to seek refuge at the Duke’s castle? I believe I can arrange it. You aren’t safe within a week’s ride of the southern border. I assume from what you said that you are from the Red Kingdom?”

  “I am and I will go with you. I had a man who watched over me, but he is missing or dead.” Sally lifted her chin up higher and took an inward breath. There seemed to be a story there and Lotto perceived her body language as an attempt gain her self-control. The woman certainly behaved like a noble. If not the princess, she probably had waited on her as a lady-in-waiting or perhaps she was the daughter of a high noble.

  “Then be ready to ride in the morning. Do you have a horse?”

  She gave him a grim laugh. “I arrived here on the back of a wagon with five other women. I have no idea where my possessions are.”

  Lotto put out his hand. “Then let’s get you some riding gear. I assume you can ride?”

  Sally nodded and put her chin down, not looking at him and as much as he wanted to see those arresting eyes, he felt excited that she would come with him.

  ~

  As they approached Crackledown, Lotto regretted the end to his journey. He had acted as politely as he could towards Sally, whose very look still pierced his heart. He hadn’t known such a feeling, but as they approached the capital city, he put it down to infatuation and to him, infatuation was a false love that could drive people crazy. He did, indeed, find himself a little crazy about her. Every move she made, every look into his eyes, her very voice thrilled him and took his breath away. He didn’t want to leave her side, but he couldn’t stay long at Crackledown. She had told him that she was indeed Princess Sallia on the road. What was he, the son of a long dead duke? He had no lands or possessions of any note, except for the weapons on his horse and the empty title of Knight.

  The link to Restella had never affected him like Sallia’s smile and her confidence. She had told him of her escape with Unca, her father’s wizard. He wished the link didn’t pull him towards Restella, but then what would he be without it? Lotto the half-wit? He wouldn’t even be interested in Sallia in that form. He had a harder time trying to lift her spirits as his plummeted.

  When Crackledown appeared, he had to continually fight off depression. He had misgivings about leaving Sally at Crackledown, but realized that the security of the castle would protect her as much as the walls of Beckonvale castle. As they rode up the long incline, Morio met them midway.

  “Lotto, I see you’ve brought a bright light to my father’s court.”

  A flash of jealousy went through Lotto. How could he compete with the smooth, roguish tongue of his friend? But in a moment of lucidity he wondered what was he jealous about? Still, Sally had acted like a friend after the princess told him of her flight from Duke Histron and she asked him to continue to call her Sally.

  She really did have a sense of humor that seemed to be emerging from an iciness that might have been caused by her abduction. He thought back on the trip and it’s myriad moments that he would remember.

  His life had its tiny hardships, but he had never been as emotionally challenged as Sally had. He gripped his staff, wrapped in its leather sheath. He had finally used it to save three people, Anchor, the barman and Sally and that felt better than fighting the king’s soldiers in Prola.

  He reached out and patted Sally on her hand. “Beware of this ducal prince, Sally. He will charm you.”

  Morio grinned. “Indeed I will.”

  Later when they reached the top, Morio brought Lotto and Sally to the duke’s private chambers.

  “May I present Princess Sallia, the rightful heir to the throne of the Red Kingdom?”

  Morio and the duke immediately rose from their seats. “Princess!” the both said together.

  “Lott
o Mistad saved me from being captured by Histron’s men and I ask for sanctuary. It is no longer safe to hide in the Red Kingdom. My protector, Unca, is missing and I fear he is dead. I’m now left to my own devices and it appears my own devices were ineffective in saving me.” She relayed to the duke a very condensed version of her escaping court and ending up in the village of Everwet.

  It became Lotto’s turn to talk about the excitement in the tavern.

  “I wish I were there,” Morio said, throwing his fist into his palm.

  “I could have used the help. A wizard removed the disguise that Unca had put over Sally, Princess Sallia” He reddened at speaking the familiar name he had used for the past days. “The man who first tried to save her is still healing at the inn. He claimed to be a strategist, more than a fighter, in the Red Kingdom army. I believe him. He has intelligence about him. If you have a post needing an advisor, I’d recommend him as a reward for saving the princess. Who knows what would have happened to the princess if he hadn’t started the fighting?”

  “His name?” the duke said, holding up a quill.

  “Anchor.”

  “A prosaic name, to be sure, but I like it. I have a captain who commands the fort that guards the road to Learsea.” The duke looked at Morio. “You know Travelwell?”

  “Eberlo’s man.” Morio’s face darkened.

  “Indeed. I’d like a more independent sort out there. Perhaps he can be useful. I’ll commission him and have a couple of my trusted men see if he’s good.”

  “I think he will be,” Lotto said, relieved that the duke enabled him to pay his debt to the wounded man.

  The duke rose and pulled a bell cord and a guard entered.

  “Escort this woman to my wife. She will know how to appropriately house her in the castle.” The duke bowed to Sally. “My castle is your home as long as you need one. It’s been quite some time since you have graced the halls of Crackledown. I think you might have been ten or eleven years old. Not much has changed. We can talk later.”