Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03

by Toby Neighbors

  “What do they want?”

  “What does every mad man want?” Kelvich answered. “Power, money, control… basically anything and everything they see. Some people say that the Torr is the only safe place for Wizards. It’s no secret that every King covets a Wizard, but since the Torr began, no kingdom has been favored with one. They’ll reveal their plans in time, but for now it’s enough to know that they don’t operate with the same morals as most people. Murder is not a problem for them, and they don’t care who gets in their way.”

  “Three Wizards from the Torr showed up in my village. They demanded that I go with them, but my father and I resisted,” Zollin said. “My best friend was killed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kelvich said sincerely. “Our gifts do not always bring us happiness. I take it the others aren’t your brother and sister.”

  Zollin shook his head.

  “Well, that makes more sense, then. I think we have a lot to discuss, but it seems you should probably talk it over with your companions. And by the way, I think she’s upset because you are showing young Miss Ellianna a little too much attention. Trust an old man, women aren’t my specialty, but I’ve known a few.

  “If you choose to visit me I’ll be in my cottage on the edge of the woods, just follow the tree line west from the road,” he said. Then, veering off the trail, he urged his horse into a canter and rode away.

  Zollin’s horse sat and watched him go, and then Zollin clucked his tongue and urged his own horse to move on. As he rode he pondered what Kelvich had said. The world of magic was much larger than he had imagined. He wondered what he could learn, what kinds of things he could do. But try as he might, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back to Brianna. Why did she have to complicate his life so much? He wanted to hate her. She was annoying enough to drive anyone crazy, he thought. Why was she so drawn to him? Was it his power? Did she hope that if she was with him, he would give her riches and glory? It was preposterous that she would care for him – she had never even given him so much as a passing glance before. He remembered that day in Tranaugh Shire, walking her to inspect her new home – she had seemed so spoiled, so typically fixated on girlish dreams. But she had been strong and confident as they made their escape from the village and faced the dangers of the road. He would have liked nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss her soft, pink lips, but he could never do that.

  Soon he could see her, waiting at the tree line of the forest for him. She had sense enough not to ride through the heavily wooded slopes of the valley alone, he thought. She was beautiful, even from a distance, so regal, sitting on her horse, gazing back down the valley as if she were a princess inspecting her kingdom. But there was none of the girlish pride or condescension on her features now. They were soft and warm, making his temperature rise despite the winter weather. He knew he could love her, but he also knew he couldn’t. He had to push her away, to make it clear that they could never be together. He would not disgrace his friend’s memory by stealing Todrek’s wife.

  He hardened his features as he approached. “At least you had the common sense to wait for me instead of riding into the forest all alone,” he snapped at her.

  She had been about to say something, perhaps apologize, but the words died on her lips. Her countenance faltered for just a moment, but then she regained her composure and turned her horse back toward the road.

  “It took you long enough,” she said icily.

  The words were like salt in a wound to Zollin, but he was glad to hear them. Glad that she would not tempt him by being nice.

  “There’s no need to go further, we can watch the road from here,” Zollin said.

  She stopped her horse and turned it back to him. “Well, what did you have in mind, fearless leader?”

  “Let’s find a place off the road and wait,” he said. “That’s what we came to do.”

  “I don’t know what your problem is but –”

  He didn’t let her finish.

  “I don’t have a problem,” he said.

  “Oh, acting like a jerk just comes naturally, does it.”

  “Just giving as good as I get,” he replied.

  Her face hardened even more, the color disappearing from her lips, which were pulled into a tight line.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

  “I’m just saying, if you treat me like the hired help, I’ll treat you like a brainless wench.”

  “Ooohh!” she shouted and leaned toward him, swinging her hand in a wide arch to slap him, but Zollin leaned out of the way. Unfortunately, she leaned too far, and although she tried to grab the saddle, her sudden movement caused Lilly to shift away from Zollin’s horse, throwing her even further off balance. She fell, and Zollin tried to catch her before she hit the ground. He lifted with his magic, but it was useless, the ring he’d given her repelled his effort.

  She landed with a crunch but the thick snow had cushioned her fall. She cried out from the cold and surprise, but Zollin merely watched her.

  “I hate you,” she screamed.

  “That’s your right,” he said, as if the remark hadn’t felt like a knife being thrust into his heart.

  She grabbed Lilly’s reins and pulled herself back into the saddle. “I hope you freeze out here,” she said.

  “Not likely,” he smirked.

  She kicked her horse and headed back to the village, and only when she was out of sight did he let his shoulders slump in despair. He hated treating her so unfairly, but it was the only way to keep his vow.

  He led his horse off the road and found a good spot to wait out the day. After a while, he wished he had been a little easier on her just so that he could have had some company. Instead he ate her share of the lunch Ellie had packed for them. The food was good, soft bread and cheese, although the cold air made the cheese hard. He noticed that Ellie hadn't packed any apple tart in Brianna’s rations. He didn’t blame her.

  Chapter 17

  Early that afternoon, the storm began. Snow fell lightly at first, big, beautiful flakes that seemed to dance on the air. As he finished off Ellie’s delicious apple tart, the snowfall increased. The air seemed to fill with millions of white snowflakes until everything seemed to be white, or at least a shade of white. Zollin quickly made his way back to the village, following the trail in the snow the horses had made earlier that morning. When he stepped out of the stable after rubbing down his horse and noticing that Brianna had tended to Lilly, he couldn’t see the Inn. He knew it was only thirty or so feet from the stable, but all he could see was snow. It was everywhere. He had seen snowstorms like this a few times in his life, had heard stories of people being lost out in the open, unable to make their way back to their village and freezing to death. He was confident that wouldn’t happen, but he wasn’t sure he could make his way to the other side of the Inn without staggering around like a blind man. He walked as straight as possible until he was only a few feet away from the Inn and suddenly the low-roofed structure loomed up out of the whiteness ahead of him. He could vaguely make out a door. He didn’t knock but pulled open the door and stumbled in.

  The room he was in was full of wine barrels and kegs of ale. There was a commotion, and the Inn Keeper hurried in looking worried.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “I warned you about the weather.”

  “Yes, and I’m glad you did. I got back just in time. Thank you.”

  “Ah,” the Inn Keeper’s smile returned. “It’s my pleasure. Right this way, and I’ll show you to the common room.”

  Zollin followed the plump man through the maze of rooms, some used as pantries, others kitchen and laundry rooms. He had never thought of the amount of work it took to keep up an Inn. It made him feel bad for Ellie. They bumped into her as she hurried around the corner with empty ale mugs.

  “Oh, Zollin, when did you get back?” she said, looking a little embarrassed.

  “Just now, and just in time I’d say,” said her father. “The whit
e out is coming on strong – we’ll be busy. Make sure there’s extra food being prepared, hurry along.”

  She nodded and hurried off.

  “She’s a hard worker, that one. I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter. Be looking to find her a good match soon,” he said.

  Zollin didn’t miss the hint in the Inn Keeper’s voice. He wondered why a man with an Inn would be so quick to want to marry his daughter to a stranger. He didn’t have much time to ponder the thought. When he stepped into the common room, he found it half full of town’s folk already.

  “What about the weather?” he asked the Inn Keeper. “How will these people find their way home?”

  “They won’t, they’ll stay here.”

  “Oh,” Zollin said. It made sense; there was plenty of food and space for everyone. It would make for a lively evening. Zollin scanned the room for Brianna. She wasn’t there, which didn’t surprise him, but he was both relieved and disappointed at the same time. He knew she was close since Lilly had been safe and warm in the stable. He found a place near the wall that separated the sleeping rooms from the common room and settled in. He leaned back against the wall and watched the people. They were laughing and joking. There was a festive air, and it reminded Zollin of the Harvest Festival. He had always hated being snowed in. He loved his father, but being cooped up in their little house with a man who couldn’t sit still was nerve-wracking. At least here there was plenty of ale and mulled cider. He was planning to ask for a cup when he noticed something strange. Every time the door from the kitchens opened, the laughter and talking stopped. It was only for a moment, but it happened repeatedly. People would look up toward the door, then go right back to their conversations. It was odd, Zollin thought.

  He was thinking of asking Ellie about it, but Quinn and Mansel showed up and began describing the Gateway Inn. It had caught fire and most of the kitchen and storage rooms had burned. The fire had been extinguished before spreading upstairs, but the owner wanted the second story floor to be replaced. It would take at least two months to complete all the work.

  “And that’s only if we can get the lumber milled,” Quinn said.

  “And that’s not likely with weather like this,” Mansel added.

  “Oh, I’m sure people here have learned to cope,” Zollin said.

  “Looks like their way of coping agrees with me,” Quinn said, taking a mug of ale from Ellie.

  “Any chance I can get some of that mulled cider?” Zollin asked.

  “Of course,” she said, beaming.

  “I’ve always liked this town,” Quinn said. “I would have settled here, but your mother couldn’t deal with the cold.”

  “You’ve been here before?” Zollin asked. “Was it with the army?”

  “Yup, seems like a long time ago. The Skellmarians are savage people. But living in weather like this year-round would make you crazy.”

  “What are they like?” Mansel asked.

  “Well, I only ever saw one or two,” Quinn explained. “We came up the coast from Isos city by boat and entered the Great Valley on the western end. I was stationed here, or actually to the north of the river. We were never raided – Brighton’s Gate rarely is. But some of the other villages along the valley, especially those that harbor miners that work the northern mountains, get raided all year long.”

  “And the Skellmarians?” Mansel urged.

  “They wore big, thick coats and close fitting hats made of some kind of animal fur. They had long hair and dark skin. They had what looked like really large bear claws threaded into necklaces, but what I remember most was the smell. They stank worse than your father’s tannery.”

  Zollin snickered at that comment, and Mansel looked pained. It was a common joke in Tranaugh Shire – the tannery was a smelly place and Mansel’s family was constantly teased but took it good naturedly.

  Soon food was being served, and everyone was talking and laughing. Brianna appeared but never looked at Zollin. Even when Ellie came by to chat, Zollin noticed that she stared at the fire and seemed not to hear or care about their conversation.

  Mansel was soon too into his cups to be much fun – his ale made him melancholy. Zollin suspected he was a bit homesick and didn’t blame him. If his mother were alive, no amount of stench or teasing could keep him away.

  As the evening wore on, people began to sing. Ellie, Ollie, and Buck the Inn Keeper set out large pitchers of drink so that people could help themselves. It was a merry evening until the kitchen door banged open and three large men came in, shaking the snow off their clothes and demanding ale.

  Ollie and Buck hurried to serve them, and the room grew quiet.

  “Don’t stop singing on our account,” said one of the men in a gruff voice. “Sing dammit!” he shouted. Everyone obeyed, but there wasn’t merriment in the room any longer. Ellie hurried in with a platter of mugs and two pitchers of ale. She began setting the drinks on the table when one of the men pinched her. She flinched but continued working.

  Zollin started to rise from his seat, his hand clutching his staff, but his father laid a hand on his arm. Zollin looked at his father, who shook his head discreetly but never took his eyes off the three men.

  “Don’t be a fool, Zollin,” Brianna hissed. “You try and be the hero with magic, and the town will know who we are. They’ll run us out in this weather and we’ll all freeze to death. Your little girlfriend isn’t worth it.”

  Zollin didn’t know what made him angrier, the three men abusing the Inn Keeper’s daughter or Brianna rubbing his nose in what she didn’t understand. But she had a point; if he blasted the men, they could very well be thrown out into the cold.

  “Well, we can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Zollin said.

  Another of the burly men grabbed Ellie and pulled her onto his lap. She wailed and he laughed. Ollie came charging over, shouting for the men to let her go, but one of the others stood in her way.

  “You better let her go,” Quinn said in an easy voice.

  The laughter stopped, and even Ellie was quiet. The man holding her turned slowly to see Quinn standing a few feet away. Zollin noticed that Quinn’s dagger was stuck into his belt at the small of his back. He wanted to stand up and help, but he would be no match for the big men in a fight unless he used magic, and that could only be a last resort.

  “I don’t know you,” said the gruff man.

  “I’m new in town,” Quinn said. “Let the girl go and let’s have a drink together. I’ll tell you all about me.”

  The man didn’t move and he didn’t let Ellie go either.

  “You had better sit down,” said the third man. He had a big woolly beard and greasy hair that hung down around his shoulders.

  “Not until you let the girl go and mind your manners.”

  The three men laughed. Then suddenly the one with the big beard lunged at Quinn, but the Master Carpenter darted away. Zollin leapt to his feet and swung his staff at the man who had lost his balance. The thick wood smashed into the man’s face and snapped his head back violently. His feet flew up and he dropped to the floor in a heap. The man who had blocked Ollie’s approach started to draw his sword, but Quinn drew and threw his dagger so fast his hand was a blur. The knife buried itself up to the hilt in the man’s stomach just under his rib cage. The man’s legs went rubbery and he fell to floor, moaning in pain.

  “That was a mistake,” said the man who still held Ellie on his lap. He suddenly shoved her at Quinn, who grabbed her. The man was instantly on his feet with a long, heavy-looking knife in his hand. “I’m going to carve you up and then start on your pup over there,” he said, thrusting the knife in Zollin’s direction.

  Quinn never said a word, just stepped in front of Ellie, who quickly hurried back to her mother, and waited. The man looked him up and down, probably trying to see if Quinn had another weapon. Zollin felt a lump rising in his throat. He had never seen his father fight before the confrontation in Tranaugh Shire. Now he stood unarmed and seemingly helpl
ess before a much larger man with a deadly looking knife.

  No one had noticed Mansel rise from his bench. The boy was swaying a little, his head swimming from too much ale, but he bellowed at the big man and stumbled toward him. The big man never looked away from Quinn, but his left fist shot out and smashed into Mansel's face, sending the boy reeling backward.

  Suddenly, the man swung the big knife in a long arc that was aimed for Quinn’s head. Quinn leaned back out of reach of the vicious swipe and then stepped forward, brought his leg up and kicked straight down onto the man’s knee. There was a loud pop and the man howled, dropping the knife and falling to the floor clutching his knee. Quinn picked up the big knife in his slow, methodical way, looked at it, and then, holding the blade, he slammed the handle down on the back of the man’s head.