Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03

by Toby Neighbors

  “Two of those horses are King’s army mounts,” she said in a flat tone. “Where did you get them?”

  “I got them in Brighton’s Gate,” Zollin said truthfully. “We traded our own mounts for the soldier’s horses.”

  The woman looked at him even more intently. “You mean you stole them,” she said.

  “No, they took our horses and we took theirs. It’s a long story, and one you probably wouldn’t believe if I told you.”

  “You need to convince me,” she said threateningly, “or I’ll turn you into the King’s army officials.”

  Zollin sighed in exasperation. He could have avoided all of this if he hadn’t been trying to repay Miriam’s kindness. Having her check on the horses was his way of paying her, but now it seemed that it had been a mistake.

  “Did you know a legion of the King’s army marched up the Great Valley in early spring?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Well, they did. They were led by a wizard named Branock. Do you know who he is?”

  Miriam frowned. “No and I don’t believe in wizards, so I think I’ve heard enough.”

  She turned and began walking briskly out of the barn.

  “Miriam, wait,” Zollin called after her, but she ignored him.

  He sighed once again, then reached out to her with his magic. He felt the hot wind inside of him mingling with the magic in his staff. Then he lifted her off the ground. It was only a few inches, but it was enough. She screamed and thrashed as Zollin drew her back to him.

  “What’s going on?” Jax said as he came running into the barn.

  “Run, Jax!” Miriam shouted. “Run!”

  The boy dropped the leather satchel he’d brought back to the barn and was just about to escape when Zollin snatched him up and levitated him over to where Miriam was still trying to break Zollin’s invisible magic grip.

  “As I was saying,” he said in a loud voice. “He is a wizard.”

  Jax froze in midair, and Miriam looked terrified.

  “As am I,” Zollin said calmly. “Now I’m not going to hurt anyone, and I don’t want to do anything against your will. I just want you to hear me out. If you still want me to leave, I will.”

  Miriam nodded, not trusting herself to speak at that moment. When he set them gently back on the floor, Jax collapsed. Miriam bent over him, but he was okay.

  “I’ve never flown before,” he told her in a false bravado. “I stumbled is all.”

  “It may be better if we all sit,” Zollin said. The barn floor was bare, hard packed earth that was swept as clean as any floor and laid with freshly cut rushes. They all sat down.

  “I’m a wizard,” Zollin said, continuing the story. He told them about the army and the attack by the Skellmarians. He told them about the dragon and about Branock’s treachery.

  “So the dragon’s real?” Jax said.

  “I can’t say that the one I fought and the one demanding gold are the same. It could just be thieves, but I don’t think so.”

  “Wicked!” said the boy.

  “A real dragon,” Miriam said. Her fear and anger had been swept away by the wonder of a magical creature that she obviously wanted very much to see. “Tell me more about the dragon.”

  “There’s not much to tell, it was big. Long neck, big head with small horns. The tail was long and reminded me of a snake the way it moved. It had big hind feet, but no forelegs. The wings were long and leathery looking. Sort of like a bat.”

  “And it really breathed fire?” she asked in wonder.

  “Yes.”

  They sat for a moment in silence.

  “What other tricks can you do?” Jax asked.

  “I don’t do tricks,” Zollin said good naturedly. “I cast spells.”

  He lifted his staff and let the blue energy crackle and pop up and down the wood. It even ran up his arm. Then he held out a palm and a small, orange flame appeared just above it, dancing and swaying. The barn had grown dark as the sun began to set. He let the flame transform into a small, gold sphere of energy. It was like a tiny sun, only about the size of an egg, but it was dazzling to look at. He sent it into the air over their heads.

  “Unbelievable!” Jax said in an excited voice. “No one will ever believe me.”

  “No, I don’t suspect they will,” Miriam said. “But you didn’t tell us about the horses.”

  “I set out in pursuit of Brianna and was stopped by the army,” Zollin said. “They hit me over the head and chained my friends and me in the mud. When I came to, we escaped, but we needed horses. They had taken ours and, rather than try to find our own mounts, we took what we needed.”

  “The mare doesn’t belong to the army,” Miriam said.

  “No, that is Brianna’s horse. I mean to see that she rides Lilly to safety.”

  “So you think that this wizard, Branock, has taken your friend to Orrock?”

  “Yes, at least my father does. If she isn’t there, then he’s taken her to Osla, and I’ll take passage on a ship going south.”

  Miriam nodded. She was thinking. She wouldn’t let a criminal stay on her property, but she was genuinely at a loss. Zollin’s story seemed plausible enough, although she had no way to check it. The levitation might have been a trick, and the blue, lightning-like energy could have been an illusion, she supposed, but she was looking around her barn by the light of a ball of fire that was hovering over her head. That was difficult to explain.

  “So...” Zollin said. “Would you like me to leave?”

  “No,” said Jax earnestly.

  “I think...” Miriam hesitated again. “You are leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Zollin confirmed. “At first light.”

  “Fine,” she said. “You can stay, but please, I don’t want any trouble.”

  “You won’t have any,” Zollin said. “I promise.”

  She smiled. “I’ve had enough excitement for one day, I’m afraid.”

  “Here,” Zollin said, rising quickly to his feet. He extended his hand to her. “Let me help you up.”

  She hesitated and then took his hand. When their skin touched, Zollin felt a pulse of magic rush out and mingle with the obscure power in Miriam. Her eyes widened as he pulled her to her feet. They were standing close, and Zollin felt himself attracted to the older woman. She was probably old enough to be his mother, but she was attractive and charismatic. Still, none of those things were what sparked the desire, it was the magic. Something had been sleeping in Miriam, and now it was awake.

  Zollin let go of Miriam’s hand and stepped back. She was blushing, her heart beating fast. She had felt the attraction as well; it was like approaching a campfire on a cold night. It felt hot and good at the same time. Part of her wanted to step toward Zollin, even though he was much too young and obviously infatuated with the girl he was pursuing. But the temptation was there, a longing deep inside of her to be closer to him, to his power.

  “I better go get my friend,” Zollin said. “Jax, can you show me where the inn was?”

  “Sure!” the boy said excitedly.

  “Good, we’ll get supper out, and be gone in the morning.”

  “Good,” Miriam echoed. “That’s good.” But she knew it wasn’t.

  Chapter 28

  The inn was crowded and hot, despite the chilly night. The day had been beautiful and sunny, but as the sun fell, so did the temperature. Inside the inn, a fire was burning in the hearth and the crowded room smelled of smoke, sweat, ale, and broiled meat. Mansel was busy listening to two very drunk men talk about the dragon attack on one of the small villages. When Zollin stepped inside with Jax, he looked around the room to find Mansel, but then realized he preferred the boy’s company to that of drunken men.

  There was a small table in the corner, shrouded in shadows, and Zollin retreated to it. He ordered cider for himself and Jax, two meals, and honey cakes to wrap things up. They ate, and it made Zollin feel good to see the orphan boy eating. It was pretty obvious that
he didn’t get meals regularly. He ate everything that was brought, even though Zollin couldn’t finish all of the beef steak and fried potatoes that had been brought out for them. He also encouraged Jax to put the extra honey cakes into his pockets for later.

  They, like everyone else, talked about the dragon, and Zollin kept an eye on Mansel, who seemed obvious to Zollin’s presence. Mansel sat with his sword propped against the table beside him. He laughed and slapped the table with his hand, roaring with the growing crowd of hard drinking men. The serving girls had trouble keeping up with the constant demand for more ale, but they did their best, always flashing a smile in Mansel’s direction. The trouble began when one stopped to talk with Mansel, rather than going to a small group of locals to refill their cups.

  “Hey,” one of the men shouted. “Leave that boy alone and bring us more ale.”

  The serving girl glanced over, but just then Mansel made a joke and they both laughed.

  “They’re laughing at you, Povil,” one of the men said.

  Zollin was watching the group now as Jax chatted happily between bites of his desert. The men were staring angrily and finally the one named Povil stood up. He was an older man, thick through the chest and with a round belly, but he carried the weight well. He screwed up his courage and approached Mansel.

  “I told you to leave this freeloader alone and bring us drinks, girl!” Povil said in a loud voice.

  Mansel seemed to notice the man for the first time. In fact, he graciously apologized for distracting the girl from her duties. It should have ended there, but Povil needed to make sure his friends knew that he hadn’t backed down.

  “Shut up, boy. Finish your drink and get the hell out of here.”

  Mansel stood up. He was as tall as the other man, broad shouldered and muscled, but leaner than Povil.

  “I don’t think I like you, old man. Sit back down with your friends and mind your own business, or I’ll make you regret it.”

  Povil hesitated, but only for a second, then he cleared his throat and spit on Mansel’s boot.

  Zollin’s heart sank, and he started to rush over to calm things down somehow, but before he could move, Mansel’s fist shot out in a straight punch that snapped the man’s head back and toppled him like a tree. The man fell, his body bounced on the wooden plank flooring, his arms and legs stiff and his eyes rolling back in his head until only the whites showed.

  Then the other men, there were three of them left, launched themselves at Mansel. Zollin stood up, but Jax grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. Mansel threw his cup at one man then punched another, but the third slammed his shoulder into Mansel, who fell back onto another table. The men sitting at that table grabbed the man and slung him into yet another table, and then the fight really began.

  The pent up tension in the refugees and locals exploded into flying stools and benches. Bones were broken and blood flew. Mansel was giving as good as he got. His sword was knocked to the floor, and for the most part weapons were not drawn. When a group of soldiers arrived, Zollin and Jax were pressed back into the corner. The soldiers, who also served as de facto peace keepers in the town, drew short swords and the fight subsided. Zollin noticed that Mansel had a bloody nose, and one eye was swelling, but his blood was up, and he had an eager smile on his face.

  “Who started this?” demanded the centurion of the small group of soldiers. He was an older man, with short cropped, grey hair; an evocati, which meant he was old enough to retire but had chosen to stay on duty. The other soldiers were wearing chainmail under their jerkins, but the centurion wore no armor and no weapons. All the rest of his cohort had short swords just like the one Quinn had from his days in the King’s army, which they held at the ready. Zollin felt fear blow its frigid breath on the back of his neck.

  “He did,” said one of the men who had attacked Mansel. He was pointing a finger directly at Mansel. “He attacked Povil for no reason.”

  “That’s a damn lie,” Mansel said angrily.

  “You’re under arrest,” the centurion said to Mansel. “Take him.”

  Zollin saw Mansel’s face harden. Saw him glance around the floor that was now littered with broken tables and benches for his sword. He imagined peace and tranquility and sent the thought across the room with his magic. He was relieved when Mansel’s face relaxed, and he didn’t object when two of the soldiers took him by the arms and escorted him from the room.

  “There will be no more fighting!” the centurion demanded, and there were murmurs of acknowledgement from around the room. “You newcomers are here only so long as you can keep yourselves under control. One more public disturbance, and I’ll make it my mission in life to run each and every one of you out of town and back to the pathetic villages you came from.”

  The room remained silent, even after the soldiers left, the people spoke in hushed whispers. Zollin found his seat and sat down again. It was one of the few that were still intact from the brawl.

  “Where will they take him?” Zollin asked Jax.

  “They have a guard house inside the fort,” Jax said.

  “Can you take me there?”

  “Yes, but the soldiers may not let you in. They’ve been working overtime with all the strangers in town and most of the soldiers gone looking for the dragon.”

  “Well, we better get going and see what we can do,” Zollin said, standing up again. The inn keeper looked distraught. Zollin carried two small, leather pouches, one on his belt that was filled with silver coins. The other was under his shirt and had gold coins inside. He pulled four of the gold coins from the hidden pouch and handed them to owner of the inn.

  “I’m sorry things got out of hand,” Zollin told him. “I hope this covers the damages.”

  He dropped the coins into the man’s hand. The inn keeper’s eyes went wide at the sight of the gold. He looked up in surprise, his despair suddenly turned into hope.

  “I hope that if the soldiers need you to press charges against my friend that you can look the other way.”

  “Of course, of course,” said the inn keeper.

  Zollin nodded to him then walked out with Jax. The boy was looking at him strangely, but he didn’t ask the question that was obviously on his mind. Instead, he led Zollin through the dark streets. Windows were shuttered and gates barred. There were people in the alleys, some huddled around small fires, others sleeping where the townsfolk threw their garbage and emptied chamber pots. Zollin wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw groups of children scavenging for food in the shadows.

  The barracks used by the army were on the outskirts of the town, but the watch tower was built along the road. The fort was built around the tower and consisted of a low, stone wall, about the height of a man on horseback. Much lower than a city or castle wall, but tall enough to make getting in difficult. There was a large, wooden gate that led into the fort and two metal torch holders on either side that spilled light around the entrance.

  “They don’t leave guards outside, with most of the garrison away from the fort,” Jax said. “I’m not even sure if they’ll deal with you until morning.”

  “I’m sure I can get their attention,” Zollin said.

  He strode up to the wooden door, expecting that someone would notice him. He heard no one and was not challenged. He banged on the wooden door, but again heard nothing. He reached out with his magic and could feel the sentries on duty. They were certainly close enough to have heard his knock, but they were ignoring him. He sent an urgent desire to open the gates toward the men with a pulse of his magic. The power flowed out in a hot gust and soon he heard the wooden crossbeam being lifted, and as he stepped back the door opened.

  “Who is it? Who’s out there?” said the first soldier. He was barely older than Zollin and looked almost afraid.

  “I’m Zollin and I’ve come to inquire about my friend. He was taken here by some soldiers after a misunderstanding at one of the inns. I’d like to secure his release so that we can leave town.”

/>   “I don’t know about that,” said the young soldier. “Yoric won’t like being bothered with this.”

  “Our fearless leader is set on making an example of your friend,” said the older soldier. He was fat and looked bored. He had a drooping mustache that badly needed trimming and even from several paces away Zollin could smell him.

  “I heard him say something about a public whipping, perhaps even flogging him on the town square,” said the younger soldier.

  “That would be unfortunate,” said Zollin, trying to keep his temper in check. “May I see him?”

  “No, we couldn’t allow that,” said the younger soldier.