The Defender: Elderwood

by Robert Collins

  Allan smiled.

  He saw Delilah coming up the road from his vantage point in one of the abandoned houses he would hide out in. He pulled down his mask and left the house.

  She smiled and appeared to sigh when she saw him. She walked towards him. “I wasn’t sure when or where I’d find you,” she said.

  “I said I would look for you,” Allan replied.

  “And now you’ve found me.”

  He stepped in front of her. “So I have.” He glanced at the ground for an instant. “I’d like you to take hold of me.”

  “Oh?”

  “I want to take you somewhere safe, where we can talk.”

  “Oh.”

  She put her arms around him. He felt warm again. Fortunately, he didn’t need all his mental power to concentrate on flying to the castle. He was able to use his spare faculties to keep himself from reacting to the fact that a shapely young woman with a pretty face was holding onto his body.

  She didn’t try to engage him in conversation while they flew. When he looked at her, he noticed that she was keeping her eyes shut tight. The notion came to him that she might not be having the same reaction to flying that he had. Until then he’d never thought that someone else might not enjoy the freedom of racing through the air, or the grand and sweeping view of the earth below. Maybe it’s something I’m used to, and no one else is.

  At last they reached the castle. He chose to land in front of the main doors, rather that go through an opening in the roof, in part because she hadn’t seen them approach it. Once his feet touched the stone walkway leading to the entrance, he said, “Here we are.”

  She opened her eyes, let go of him, and turned around. “This is where you live?”

  “Most of the time, yes.”

  “It’s in ruins.”

  “It was vacant for generations, Delilah. Even a castle will start to fall apart, if it’s left alone for that long.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Quite safe. I’ve been here almost two years now.”

  “I see. All right, then.”

  Allan bowed. “If you will follow me.”

  She laughed and nodded to him. He led her through the front door and to what had been the dining room. He’s used his time, and his new skill at carving wood, to fashion a crude table and two chairs. He invited her to sit down across from.

  “Do you know who built this place?” she asked.

  “The last mage who lived here wrote that it had belonged to his teacher, and to his teacher before him.”

  “The last mage? Wrote? You can read?”

  “Yes. My sister could, too.”

  “How?”

  “We had parents before we were forced onto the streets.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They died of disease. One of the diseases that strikes the city every now and again. We had no other family to help us, just each other. Anyway, our parents taught us to read. My sister more than me, to be honest. But she kept teaching me after they died.”

  “Why?”

  “Being able to read was a special skill. It meant that we could ask for little jobs that hardly any other children on the streets could get. When you have nothing, any skill, any talent, is as useful as food and shelter.”

  “Oh. What about this last mage, then?”

  “He was a mage at the time when the mages were in decline. He already had books of his spells, what they were, how to cast them, that sort of thing. He also wrote down what had happened. He wanted whoever found his supply of spellbooks and enchanted items to know why the mages disappeared.”

  “They were defeated, weren’t they?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the whole story. You see, the force that powers magic spells is, well, it’s like a barrel of rainwater. Every time you dip into the barrel for water, there’s less in the barrel. At some point, you have to have it rain, or the barrel gets empty.”

  “That’s what happened to magic?”

  “Something much like that. The more spells that were cast, the less power there was for new spells. The more powerful the spell, the more it consumed, and that left less power for other spells. There were so many mages, casting so many spells, that the magic, well, dried up.”

  “Didn’t they know that was happening?”

  “That mage, Damien, wrote that most did know it was happening. He said that there was less power for his generation than there had been in his father’s generation, and less than in his father’s father’s time.”

  “Why didn’t they stop using magic, or at least so much of it?”

  “Damien wrote that several mages used their spells to live twice as long as normal folk lived. Others used their magic to control folk, mainly princes and lords, but also young women like you.”

  “Like me?” She nodded. “Like why my father sold me.”

  “Yes. Those mages treasured their positions, and the lives their spells gave them. The temptation to use magic to make yourself as powerful as a prince is strong.”

  “How do you know that’s what happened?”

  “I know because what Damien wrote makes sense. Right now, I have a beautiful young here, in a place that no one knows about.” He was pleased to see her blush. “A beautiful woman that I saved from a secret brothel. A woman whose life might have been very short, had I not saved her.”

  She stopped blushing. “Oh.”

  “Yes. It would be tempting to use magic on her to make her so happy that I saved her that she’d do anything to thank me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you?”

  He held up two fingers on his right hand. “Two reasons. One is that it’s wrong. It’s the same sort of sentiment that allowed your father to sell you in the first place. It puts my needs before yours. I’d be treating you like a reward, not a person like me.”

  “Good. What’s the other reason?”

  He smiled. “I don’t know the spells.” He took a breath to dismiss the smile. “Damien wrote that he knew of such spells, but chose not to learn them, because of that first reason I gave you. If you don’t know the spells, you’re not tempted to use them.”

  “Could you learn them?”

  “I think so, but learning new spells now won’t be easy. Spells build on each other. Take how we got here. I needed a spell to lift us in the air, a spell to move us through the air, a spell to control our direction, and a spell to dismiss those spells in the right order. If I wanted to turn quickly, or go much faster, I’d have to concentrate on what I needed to do, figure out how much more power such a spell would need, then try it out until it worked.”

  “Would that take much effort?”

  “Quite a bit, and it would take time. Time that I could be spending helping folk like you.”

  “I see.”

  “Speaking of helping folk, I presume that Captain William sent you with news.”

  She nodded. “He and Master Neville questioned Boss Conner, my father, and the others. They confirmed the parts of the story that you told Master Neville. Captain William also said that Master Neville found a coin stamp in the Lord Treasurer’s strongbox. He said it was a stamp he shouldn’t have. Does that make sense to you?”

  “It does. What else did he say?”

  “He said that Lady Juliet’s family is expected late this afternoon. Tomorrow morning they will present her formally to Master Neville. They will announce their engagement, which will be the formal start of the wedding celebration. Captain William thinks that might be the time to confront His Lordship with the evidence. He said he would need Master Kenneth present to confirm the testimony of the others.”

  Allan nodded. “He will have him.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Safe. Not happy, but safe. For now. Is that all?”

  “That’s all Captain William wished me to tell you.”

  “Good.”

  Delilah glanced down for an instant. “You didn’t ask if I had anything to say to you.”

  “Oh.
Did you?”

  She smiled. “Thank you for what you did, saving me. Thank you for what you tried to do, get me back to my home. Thank you for sending me to Captain William. He and his wife have been very kind to me, these last few days.” She paused for a breath. “It’s the most kindness I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re safe. What about the others?”

  “The others? Oh, yes. Captain William sent them to homes of a few of his guards.”

  “Good men, I hope.”

  “Married men, with families.”

  “Are they being helped?”

  “Yes. The families they’re living with are helping them. So am I.”

  “You?”

  “I wasn’t there as long as they were. I didn’t suffer as much as they had. Someone they know has to tell them that what was done to us wasn’t right. I decided that someone ought to be me.”

  “That’s very brave of you, Delilah.”

  She smiled again. “I had a good example.”

  “Who?”

  She laughed. “You, young man in the mask. You and Captain William.”

  “Oh. Good.” They were quiet for a moment.

  “Are you going to take me back now?” she asked.

  “I can’t take you back until after sunset. Will you be safe getting around the city at night?”

  “Captain William said that, whenever you brought me back, to go to the guards at the nearest city gate, give my name, and ask for him.”

  “Very well, then.”

  “What do you intend we do until sunset?”

  Allan hesitated for a moment. “I liked talking to you.”

  “I did, too. What should we talk about now?”

  “You could tell me more about your life.”

  “I could, but would you tell me about yours?”

  He let out a deep breath. “I could tell you about my life, and you wouldn’t know who I was. Until I came here, I was just another poor boy living on the streets.”

  “That’s a sad thing to say.”

  “Sad, yes, but also true. Much of what happened to me and my sister happened to other poor folk. The only difference that I can think of is that my sister wasn’t willing to sell herself, or me, to survive. Well, that, and that we weren’t supposed to break the law if we didn’t have to.”

  “She sounds like a young woman I’d like to know more about. I can think of two other young women who ought to know about her, too.”

  “Fair enough.” He let out another breath. “Should I take off this mask?”

  She shook her head. “I shouldn’t see your face.”

  “Why not?”

  “As long as you wear that mask, well, you don’t seem like a real man, but a fairy tale hero. Women don’t try to marry the heroes of fairy tales. I think if I saw your face, you’d stop being that hero to me.”

  He leaned forward. “I’d be a man you could fall in love with?”

  “You’d be a man that I’d want to love me, and not be a hero. Right now, I prefer the hero to the man. I think we’re better off with the hero.” One corner of her mouth turned up. “It would be selfish of me to take away the hero so I could have a husband.”

  He leaned back. “I don’t think I’m a hero, Delilah.”

  “You rescued me from a terrible fate, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that makes you a hero. So does everything I’ve heard you do for the city. I think we need a real hero more than I need a man to fall in love with. So, tell me about your sister. I think she might be a hero folk need to know about, just like the Defender.”