They had put Joachim in his old room off the chapel. He looked up soberly as I came in. "A monster from the land of magic is heading toward Yurt," I said without preamble.
"How close is it?" he asked quietly.
"Not close, not yet," I said, sitting down. "But if it hasn't left yet, it will be doing so shortly." I told him quickly about the strange problem with the wizard's telephone in the northern mountains, the phone which could make only one call a day.
"I should have realized then that it had been deliberately broken," I said. "And I should have insisted that it be fixed. Someone summoned a dragon earlier today, but without using a particularly powerful spell. The wizard up there turned it back, but because he then called the wizards' school to tell them about it, he won't be able to make any other calls for another twenty-four hours. In that time, anything else could—and surely will—come over the border, without his being able to give warning."
"How long will it take the monster to reach us?"
I noticed that Joachim was gripping his crucifix. "That's not going to be very useful," I said. "I know I've explained this to you before: the forces of wild magic are not the powers of darkness."
"And I have explained to you before," he said with a lift of one eyebrow, "that there is plenty of evil in the world that is not embodied in demons."
He was right, of course, but this seemed to me a situation where magic was going to have to be opposed by magic. "It's at least three thousand miles up to the edge of the land of magic," I said. "It took us a week in the air cart, although I'm sure a monster could fly far faster than that. I presume it will reach here sometime tomorrow."
"If it indeed is heading for Yurt," said Joachim, and I knew he was thinking of his cathedral.
"You've left your church well protected. Besides the king of Caelrhon and various knights, you've got Vor and his workmen."
"We're even better protected here," said Joachim. "You're an excellent wizard." I didn't have the heart to tell him he was wrong.
"Well," I said, "we'd been guessing something like this would happen. Maybe we should just be glad we were right. Do you think we should have them cancel Paul's coming of age ceremonies?"
Joachim shook his head. "Your renegade wizard seems to have excellent information on what's happening in Yurt and Caelrhon. If we hide, he will too. We have to get him out into the open."
I stood up. "I'm going back to my room to work on my spells. If you're working on your prayers this evening, pray for me."
III
The castle was up at dawn on a beautiful late summer day. I had only dozed fitfully after finally putting away my books. I walked out over the drawbridge for a look at the northern sky.
The grass was damp with drops of dew glinting in the rising sun. Bird songs reached me from the meadows and the woods below the hill. The knights' tents were still quiet, but I saw smoke starting to rise from the Romneys' camp. The clear sky was absolutely empty, and the fresh air seemed to promise a morning in which nothing evil could possibly happen.
When I walked back inside a few minutes later, the courtyard had already filled with lords and ladies, dressed in their best finery and talking excitedly. The frantic preparations the constable and his men had been making the last few days seemed to pay off. Soon we all found ourselves eased unobtrusively into rows according to our stations. Gwennie, the constable's daughter, grown-up and formal in blue and white starched livery, helped arrange us.
I caught Theodora's eye and smiled. Regal in lilac silk, she was attracting both curious and admiring glances.
A clear passage was left down the center of the courtyard. Talking died away as two men came out from the great hall, unrolling a long red carpet. They stretched it out through the gates and over the drawbridge, then onto the hilltop beyond. The castle's brass choir began to play, clear, bright notes, a song of triumph and joy.
And then Paul appeared. He had come down the narrow stairs from the chapel and through the great hall and now, following the red carpet, he stepped into the courtyard. He wore blue and white velvet and had a white velvet cap on his golden hair. He looked straight ahead as he walked. The brass choir continued to play, but the only other sound was the clinking of the silver spurs on his heels.
As he walked out through the gates, the rest of us moved forward to follow. A clear space had been left on the hilltop, between the drawbridge and the knights' tents. Here the constable's men had brought the throne from the great hall. Paul stood beside it, leaning on the arm, looking toward all of us and not quite seeing us.
We wizards do not have public ceremonies, coronations or enthronements, celebrations of critical turning points in one's life. When our lives changed, as mine irrevocably had, it was due to more private events.
The last notes of the processional faded away, then the members of the brass choir hurried to join the rest of us in a respectful semi-circle around Paul and the queen. The greatest lords, including the royal family of Caelrhon, were at the front, with the rest of the guests and the royal staff behind them. The Romneys, I noticed, were standing in front of their caravans a little way down the hill, watching attentively.
"My people!" said the queen. Her voice and the calls of birds were the only sounds. Even the Romney children, clustered around their parents, were wide-eyed and silent. "For six years I have served as regent of Yurt. It is now time to turn that rule over to your new king. Prince Paul, my son and the son of your late King Haimeric, is eighteen today. Today he comes of age, and today he shall be king!"
Surreptitiously I again looked toward the north. If my calculations were right, we might still have a few hours of safety. Joachim stood calmly on the far side of the crowd, surrounded by the chaplains and priests whom several of our guests had brought with them.
"I swear," the queen continued, "that he is King Haimeric's son, born to be king. You all have grown to know him well, and, I hope, to love him." The queen, all in red, looked radiant. The golden circle of her crown glinted in her midnight hair. Most of the guests were looking toward Paul, but Vincent, I noticed, had his eyes fixed on her. "Do you all agree that he should be your king, to lead you in war, to lead you in peace, to lead you in wisdom and judgment?"
"We agree." "We agree." "We agree." The murmur went quickly through the crowd. Only the priests said nothing. The Church was not under the authority of kings, and therefore could not agree or disagree to their coronations. I wasn't sure of the official status of wizards here, but I certainly agreed that Paul should be king.
"Then come forward, Paul, to receive the crown of Yurt!"
He came slowly forward, pulling off his cap, and went down on one knee before his mother. The great royal crown of Yurt sat on a stand beside her. It was plain hammered gold except for the diamond set into the front.
The queen was speaking again, describing the duties of rule, but I had trouble concentrating on what she said. The disruption of the telephones, I thought, might all be a ruse, and whatever was going to attack us might not now be flying down from the north, but might instead already be here.
I knew that the gorgos who appeared at the old bishop's funeral had not just flown south that morning, for it had already been seen earlier. In the intervening time it must have been in or near Caelrhon, under a powerful binding spell, waiting to be released. What might already be here in Yurt?
I started delicately probing for magic and was so surprised I almost cried out when I found it at once. There was another magic worker here, neither me nor Theodora. But then I realized it was only the old magician. I spotted him for the first time, standing with the Romneys, his squinting eyes almost the only part of his face visible behind his thick beard. He appeared a little less ragged than when I had seen him last; I guessed his jacket came from the Romneys. He looked in my direction as I looked in his, and, although I could not be sure at this distance, his look seemed venomous.
A spy for the renegade wizard, I thought with abrupt certainty. He had been sent here by
his master to watch for the best moment to attack.
The queen had finished the formal recital of a king's responsibilities. Paul gave the formal acceptance of those responsibilities, although in so low a voice it was hard to catch the words. The queen then lifted the heavy gold crown and placed it on her son's head to the accompaniment of a flourish from the brass. "Rise then, King Paul, ruler of Yurt!"
He rose slowly, with a dignity appropriate for someone three times his age. He held both arms straight out for a moment, a silver sword in one hand and the royal scepter in another. Then he mounted his throne and turned to look toward all of us. "With the aid of God and with your counsel," he said, in a voice clear but just a little higher than he might have wished, "I swear that I shall guard you, lead you, and rule you justly. Come forward, then, my people, to renew your allegiance to the crown of Yurt."
For the next hour, the lords and knights of Yurt came forward one by one. Each knelt before the throne and recited the fairly long oath of allegiance to their king, holding up their clasped hands to Paul. When each had finished, he put his hands around theirs, drew them up, and kissed them on both cheeks. He then presented each with a small box tied with blue ribbons. The men received silver belt buckles, and the few women, such as the duchess, who ruled in their own right received silver brooches.
The servants had melted back into the castle at the beginning of this part of the ceremony. The rest of us who did not swear formal allegiance to the king of Yurt, that is the priests, the royal family of Caelrhon, and I, stood together at one side, watching. Although as the first of the lords came forward there was absolute stillness for the oaths, as the hour went by people started talking in low voices. Delicious smells began to waft out from the castle toward us.
When the last knight had given his oath, the constable brought out a portable altar, and all talking ceased. Joachim took his place behind the altar, the constable's men passed out hymn books, and we all gave thanks to God and prayers for the health and long life of our king while the sun continued to climb in a cloudless sky—a sky still free of monsters.
At the end of the service, Paul again stepped forward. As though realizing only now that everything had gone smoothly and that he was indeed king of Yurt, he broke into his first smile of the day. "My people! I thank you again for all being here for my coming of age and coronation. I thank you for your allegiance and for your prayers. And now I would like to invite you all to the feast!"
There was applause as the guests moved toward the bridge and the castle. So far, I thought, so good. I just wondered how long our reprieve would last.
In the great hall, long trestle tables had been set up and spread with white linen cloths. I ended up at the high table, next to Paul's Aunt Maria, as I had eaten so many meals in Yurt over the years. The queen's parents faced me on the other side. Paul now sat at the head of the table, with the bishop in the seat of honor to his right, while the queen sat at the foot. The new king took off his heavy crown and set it beside his plate while the servants hurried up and down with the heaping platters. I spotted Theodora at a side table, surrounded by lords of manors and their ladies. Laughter drifted in from the courtyard, where Paul, in the spirit of hospitality, had insisted that the constable set up tables even for our unexpected guests, the Romneys.
Though there was no sign yet of trouble, I almost wished that whatever would happen would start at once, to break the tension. However, no one else appeared apprehensive. Joachim attentively followed the conversation at his end of the table, and Paul had gone from being solemn to being almost boisterous, making jokes, telling stories from his youth, and eating as if ravenous.
"It was so beautiful," said the Lady Maria at my elbow, "that I'm not ashamed to tell you the tears ran down my cheeks." I realized with a start that she had been speaking for several minutes.
The meal continued to progress in spite of my fears, with new courses, musical interludes from the brass choir, a display of tumbling by several of the Romneys, and happy conversation by everyone but me. After the trout, after the chicken, after the roast lamb, after the salads and custards and savory sausage and pies, when the servants had stopped bringing out new bottles of wine and the level of the ones on the table stopped receding about three-quarters of the way down, Paul stood up.
He waited a moment to give the conversation a chance to fade, then called for the cook to come forward. Pushed by her kitchen maids she came toward the head table, embarrassed, laughing, and highly pleased. Paul thanked her for the meal and kissed her to general applause. He then called on the constable to come receive congratulations for organizing everything so well, and issued a general thanks to all the staff.
"And now," he continued as the applause died away, "I would like to announce what you have all been anticipating: this afternoon's tournament. We will have horse races, jousting, mock battles, and trials of skill on horseback. To give you all time to prepare your horses and armor—and to digest this excellent dinner!—the tournament shall begin in three hours. Listen for the trumpet's note that will announce its beginning."
People slowly started rising from their chairs as general conversation started again. I, however, started at once for the drawbridge. If I kept my eyes on the sky, no dragon should appear without warning. I wondered if Zahlfast would come if I pleaded with him, or if it would be too late by the time he arrived. As I reached the doorway I spotted Theodora across the room, frowning in my direction, and nodded at her encouragingly.
But then I realized that all conversation throughout the great hall had abruptly ceased. All the lords and ladies stared toward me, even Paul and the queen. Their expressions were disconcerted, even worried.
They all knew, then, I thought, feeling my ears go red. No chance now to slip away unobtrusively. Somehow word had gotten around the hall that a magical attack was planned for today, and yet the Royal Wizard did not know how to deal with it. When the floor refused to swallow me I bowed stiffly to the crowd, who now seemed to be looking past my shoulder, and backed toward the door.
The duchess broke the silence. She gave a great laugh and slapped the table before her. "Well, Wizard!" she called. "You've done some wonderful illusions for us in the past, but these are the best yet!"
I felt a prickling as all the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I whirled around and saw them, and knew what I had been expecting all day had begun at last. These were no illusion. Peering into the great hall from the courtyard were creatures like lizards, but far bigger than lizards and bright red. They crept on their bellies with the front halves of their bodies arched upwards, because instead of forefeet they had human hands.
IV
They saw me looking at them, and the one in the lead spread its red wings and began to hiss. I started desperately on a paralysis spell. It had been useless against the gorgos, but these were smaller creatures. After only two seconds, before I had the spell more than half assembled, they disappeared with a bright flash.
I darted out into the courtyard, gritting my teeth, and threw Theodora's spell to reveal the invisible into the spot where they had been creeping.
They reappeared just as abruptly as they had disappeared, closer to me than I had expected. I backed away cautiously. Their clawed hands looked powerful enough to take me apart.
I put together the final words of the Hidden Language, and the creatures all froze. I hesitated, suspecting a trick, but they were as still as stone. I probed carefully and found them trapped within my paralysis spell as though frozen in ice. Wings, scales, claws, and eyes were still and silent. Without the will or ability to move, inside my paralysis spell they could do no more than breathe.
I passed my hand over my forehead. "That was too easy," I thought. Laughter and clapping came from the great hall behind me, but I paid no attention. If a renegade wizard was planning a massive attack on Yurt, he should be able to do more than this. Might all this be an effort to lull me into a false sense of security while the real attack was prepared?
And then, abruptly, the Romney children were all around me. The oldest boy looked at me with admiration in his black eyes. "Did you make them? How do you make them move? Are they going to start moving again?" To my alarm, some of the younger children were now among the creatures, feeling their rough scales and tugging at their wings.
"I wouldn't do that," I said. "They're paralyzed now, but I can't guarantee they won't wake up. Have a look at the claws."
But my paralysis spell held. "I hadn't realized you could do real magic as well as illusions!" the boy continued.
The Romney woman with the gold teeth hurried toward us. She started shooing the children away in what I thought justifiable concern. I reached into my pocket and found I still was carrying the gold earring I had picked up at the beginning of the summer. I held it out on my palm. "Does this belong to any of you?"
The younger Romneys, who had started moving across the drawbridge and toward the caravans, returned to cluster around me. One of the younger girls gave a squeal of delight. She flipped back black curls to show that the two earrings she was wearing were not a pair: one was a gold hoop, like the earring in my hand, but the other a simple silver stud.
I gave her back her earring to the approving shouts of the other children. Before they could all move off again, I took the older boy by the arm. "I didn't make the lizards," I told him. "I've only paralyzed them. Have you seen someone else do magic like this?" The renegade wizard, I thought, must be very close, but he was shielding his mind from me as effectively as ever.
"Of course not," the boy said in surprise. "Thanks for the demonstration!"
The other children, led by the girl with the earring, were now running back toward the caravans. "Before you go," I said to the Romney woman, "I want to tell you something."
She turned good-natured black eyes on me. "Those were the earrings she got at her naming ceremony when she was four, and she's been devastated since she lost the one."
C. Dale Brittain_Wizard of Yurt 04 Page 27
