A Sorcerer's Fist

by Guy Antibes

  “The duke threatened my friends, my family. The baron took his place.”

  “And it has been difficult to communicate with him ever since. He is the one who initiates the link. I can’t do that, but you can.”

  “I have had a lot of practice,” Ricky said. “I’d like to know if I can get close to the king without being caught. I can’t speak Fisttian, so I can’t find out for myself.”

  “I’ll take the day off. We can do a little research.”

  “That will work,” Ricky said grinning.

  Brollo gave each of the people in the office instructions before he left with Ricky.

  “I know some people who know more about the king’s habits,” Brollo said as he walked purposefully up from the docks towards the center of Coliat.

  Ricky listened carefully as Brollo described the workings of the city. He spoke quietly, so others wouldn’t be so likely to hear Parantian.

  They turned a corner and entered a square with houses of worship in all shapes and sizes. Ricky looked up at the clusters of spires and then at the square filled with people.

  “There are more such places in the city?” Ricky asked.

  “Five worship squares throughout Coliat. This is not the one the king uses. That one is closer to the palace, but they are similar, and the king’s square is well-guarded at all times.”

  A blaring of discordant horns sounded across the square. People gathered in front of a church painted a bright yellow. Drumbeats began to roll, filling the space with sound.

  “It is a parade of the Hakorites. There are twenty-two religions worshipped in Coliat. There are cities to the northeast that have more, but the land rental is too high in Coliat, so it restricts the establishment of the splinter groups.”

  “What do the Hakorites do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not a religious man, and if I were, I wouldn’t worship a Fisttian god. Most religions here are frauds. A large percentage of collection money goes straight into the Royal Treasury. That’s why King Korlia attends the services. It brings out the worshippers, and he can make money by just showing up.”

  “Isn’t that a bit cynical?”

  Brollo shrugged again. “I’m a foreigner here. I can think the way I wish. You can too, Valian.”

  They stood on the pavement watching the little parade go across the square and back. Worshippers entered the church behind the players.

  “Does each congregation get a performance?”

  Brollo nodded. “When I first arrived in Coliat, I spent quite a bit of time watching the shows. Each church is a bit different, and each location of each church is different. It was fun for a while, but like anything else, I had enough.”

  He pointed at a church on their side. A parade started with flutes and cymbals. More pedestrians clustered around the performance, and Ricky could see why. Girls dressed in filmy attire danced provocatively behind the players.

  “Where is your friend?”

  Brollo walked ahead. “Follow.”

  They threaded their way through the crowds and walked through the square. Brollo took him down an alley between a red church and an open temple with a female god in white marble. He stood in front of a black iron door to the white temple and knocked. A peephole opened.

  Brollo said something in Fisttian. Ricky could hear a bar drawn, and the door opened with a creak. “Inside.”

  Ricky and Brollo walked along a hallway lined with torches, following a blond woman, not quite middle-aged, in gray robes. Her outfit reminded Ricky of Duterian robes, but the Ring robes weren’t as fine as what she wore. She opened a door. Bright light flooded the dark corridor, and the woman held it open to let them in.

  The woman sat down on a cushioned chair by a sunny window and offered them seats.

  “This person is a visitor from Paranty,” Brollo said.

  The woman grinned, showing brilliant white teeth. “Welcome to my country.” She turned to Brollo. “Why did you bring the boy here?”

  “He has a mission.” Brollo turned to Ricky. “Valian, tell her what you told me.”

  Ricky repeated his story. He included what had happened to King Courer and more details about Duke Bariani’s sudden behavioral changes.

  “It is the same,” Brollo said.

  “I wondered what was going on. Queen Ula isn’t the kind of person to enjoy her husband doing strange things. You may have to do to her whatever you do to King Korlia,” the woman said. “Again, why did you bring him here?” she said to Brollo.

  “He needs access to the king and the queen. A few paces will do. Isn’t that correct, Valian?”

  Ricky nodded. “It is. My mission isn’t to linger, but to stop the influence and move on. I’m not here to change Fisttia, but to keep things from getting worse.”

  “And if you have a chance to challenge the sorcerer who did this?”

  “I won’t run away if challenged, if that is what you mean.”

  “It is,” the woman said. “Where are you staying?”

  Ricky blushed. “I don’t know the name of the inn. It is on the main road coming into the city from the northwest from Vorria. It isn’t as far as the worship squares.” The woman looked at him, obviously expecting more of a description. “It is painted dark green with light blue trim.”

  She sat back. “Go there. Season your food well; you will enjoy it better. Someone will pick you up tomorrow morning. Find something gray or black to wear. She picked at her gray dress.”

  “I have two friends who are also seeking information. Can I bring them along?”

  The woman smiled. “Male or female?”

  “Both female.”

  She smiled even brighter. “You can bring them along. I assume one of them knows Fisttian?”

  Ricky nodded.

  “Dark colors, gray or black,” she said. “You can go now, Brollo. I’m expecting a good price on the next shipment.”

  Brollo smiled. “Of course.” He rose, and Ricky followed. This time he walked out a different way. They exited into the temple. The statue looked just like the woman he had just met except it was about twenty feet tall.

  “She is the goddess?”

  Brollo laughed. “The goddess is she. That’s the way they do it in Coliat. If she left this temple, a different statue would be made to look like the new high priestess. The lady has a penchant for Tossan wine.”

  They walked to the end of the square. Another parade was just starting. “Do you know the way back to your inn?”

  “I do,” Ricky said.

  “I’ll leave you here, then.”

  Ricky watched Brollo head south toward the docks. The inn should have been fifteen or twenty minutes to the east, he thought. It took Ricky nearly an hour to find the inn. His key worked in his room, and no one had ruffled his pack. He went downstairs to eat a midday meal. Pira and Ciara hadn’t returned and gone out, and he had no way of communicating with the innkeeper other than to use sign language to tell him he was hungry.

  He waited in the lobby all afternoon, but Pira and Ciara did not return, and he couldn’t engage a link with her either. He paced back and forth, castigating himself for letting them go off on their own. However, Pira had her wand, and Ciara was an experienced bodyguard. They could defend themselves.

  The afternoon became evening, and evening became night. Ricky used his magic to open their room. Their belongings didn’t appear to be touched. He debated heading back to the docks, but what could Brollo do? He tried to link again but was unsuccessful. He had no one to help him. He would have to wait for his escort.

  After a fitful night, Ricky dressed in his black clothes and waited in the lobby. The women hadn’t returned. He sat down and closed his eyes, trying to go deeper in his link with Pira. He could feel her presence, but couldn’t get through. He knew she was alive, but not able to link.

  After forcing himself to eat a full breakfast, the woman from the temple, dressed in more conventional clothes and wearing a black headscarf and a filmy veil ,jostled
him. He had fallen asleep in the lobby chair. That was foolish, he thought.

  “You are ready?”

  “I am.” He stood and followed her out to the street.

  She turned away from the city center. Ricky didn’t understand why she would do such a thing, but he didn’t have much of a choice. They took a side road, and then she took him through an alley to a carriage. Ricky slipped inside after she had entered.

  “Your friends did not show up,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

  “No. I will have to find them.”

  She shook her head.

  “No need. They were taken to the palace, captured at the king’s worship square. They shouldn’t have ventured there without a guide. They drifted too close to those who recognized the younger girl’s companion.”

  Ricky sat back. Pira didn’t have to be concerned about being recognized, but Ciara probably hadn’t changed that much from when they had visited Coliat with King Leon.

  “You didn’t say your companion was Princess Pira.”

  “I didn’t lie to you.”

  “No,” the woman smiled. “I would do the same. Her capture complicates things on the one hand and simplifies on the other.”

  “It does?”

  “The king is in the palace. Your princess is in the palace. You can rescue one and cure the other. The sorcerer is probably there, as well.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  The woman looked at Ricky. “Easy no, but it’s not impossible. It appears I am in a position to help.”

  Ricky had no options. He couldn’t speak the language. He didn’t even know where the palace was, exactly. “I suppose it is more a matter of me helping you.”

  She smiled. “That is probably more correct. You won’t be able to enter the palace wearing that sword,” she said.

  “But can I enter with this?” Ricky pulled out his wand.

  “I suppose. Do you plan on beating the guards to death?”

  Ricky smiled. “Watch.” He extended the blade and then retracted it. There wasn’t much room in the carriage to leave the blade out. A bump could cause a deep cut.

  “A surprise. I like surprises.” The woman licked her lips. “You are powerful for your age? You can do more than disenchant the king?”

  “I can,” Ricky said.

  “Good. Then follow me and react as best you can. You will have to give up your sword.”

  Ricky looked at the Naparran sword, a gift from Saganet. If it would save Pira, he could always purchase another.

  The carriage moved through the city streets, which were filled with stretches of crude cobbles that shook it. He noticed that they passed by another worship square. This had guards posted at the entrance.

  “We are close?”

  The woman nodded. “The palace is at the other end of the square, but we will enter through a different gate.”

  “Do you have a name?” he asked.

  “I have a few. You can call me Hassa.”

  “That’s the name of a Duterian goddess.”

  “I know,” she smiled. “Isn’t it cute?”

  Ricky shook his head. At least he didn’t have to call her ‘woman’ or some other name.

  “I’m Ricky.”

  She merely nodded and called to the driver in Fisttian. They came to a gate. A guard stuck his head in the carriage, saying they had arrived. Ricky followed. As Hassa predicted, the guard confiscated Ricky’s heirloom, but after examining his wand, he gave it back and allowed them to pass. Getting into the palace grounds was much easier than Ricky had imagined.

  Ricky looked at the foreign architecture. The palace was made of brick striped in horizontal bands of black and white. Gold trimmed the windows and the entrances. The windows all had half-moon moldings that looked like eyebrows. He didn’t like the effect.

  They stopped amidst carts filled with produce or heaped with garbage, it seemed.

  “The kitchens,” Hassa said. “I often enter this way.”

  “You regularly come to the palace?”

  She smiled. “I do, since I live here.”

  Ricky wondered what kind of trap he had stepped in, but Pira and Ciara were missing. He had to go along with the woman to see if she could get him information.

  “Make sure you don’t utter a word,” Hassa said as they entered the kitchens.

  The workers studiously ignored the pair as they walked through and along a servant’s corridor. Hassa led the way. Ricky sang the counterspell to compulsion, but the woman merely paused, turned to him, smiled, and continued on. She had to be a sorcerer to act the way she did.

  “This way. No talking.” Hassa pushed on a section of the wall that sprung open and slipped inside. “Walk past me.”

  Ricky watched her secure the door and pressed himself against the stone wall as she slid past.

  “We aren’t far. A set of stairs and a few more turns.”

  Servants didn’t go up in a castle. Ricky wondered if the woman waited on Queen Ula. He followed her up. The passageway twisted around a few rooms until they faced a doorway with a similar mechanism to the first. The woman peered through a peephole and, satisfied, opened the door to a lavish suite.

  “Here we are. These are my rooms. Do you like them?”

  “Are you the King’s sister?” Ricky asked.

  Hassa laughed. “Of course not. I am his wife, Queen Ula.”

  “But you are a priestess.”

  “My little joke on the populace,” the queen said. “Rumor has it that I don’t get out much, and when I do, I wear a veil. My husband’s toadies wouldn’t think to enter the worship square where my temple to Hassa is.”

  “Brollo?”

  “Is Brollo Giani, exactly who he says he is. Baron Mansali doesn’t know that he’s my man, too, and supplier of lovely Tossan wine. A Parantian wanders about the city from time to time. If Brollo hears of them, he brings them to my temple. That way I can get an idea of what Princess Pira is up to.”

  Ricky stood, stunned, in the queen’s quarters. “Where are the guards?” he said, drawing his wand.

  “Guarding, I suppose,” Queen Ula said. She laughed. “Don’t worry; you are safe.”

  Ricky narrowed his eyes. “You don’t match my image of the Fisttian queen, at all.”

  “Of course not. Pira and I played quite a trick on my husband and your odious king. It was fun, and the effects linger to this day.”

  “You aren’t the harridan in the story?”

  Ula shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. Pira and I created the arguments and confrontations. My court face is closer to the awful woman you describe, but I am actually much nicer, as you can tell.” She gave Ricky a pleasant smile.

  Ricky could tell. He didn’t think a person could act so good-natured as she currently did.

  “I do have to swear you to secrecy. By the way, my children are King Korlia’s. I am a sorceress and learned the spell and counterspell to sterility long ago. I did not, unfortunately, learn how to eliminate compulsion. Sorcerer Terkia never bothered to use it on me, thinking I was a nasty person, I guess. He has my husband in his thrall. That is where I need your help.”

  “What about Pira and Ciara?”

  “I told you the truth about them. One of my husband’s advisors recognized the bodyguard. Terkia put them to sleep and had them carried to our little dungeons. It is too dangerous for me to see them, since there are no hidden passages that are close to that part of the palace.” Ula looked out the window. “The palace is not a happy place for me. Korlia has changed too much.”

  Ricky shook his head. “Some people will act the same, compelled or not. King Courer looked awful, and Lady Griama turned to drink. Others act normally until they are given instructions to do odd things. Can you draw me a map of the palace?”

  “No,” Ula said. “I have one already drawn up.” She went to a drawer and pulled out a large roll of parchment. “You will have to memorize the plan. This is my only copy.”

  A kn
ock on the door stopped their conversation. “Find a hiding place in there,” She opened the door to a bedroom. “I have to change.”

  Ricky had no idea what Queen Ula was saying as he listened from behind a set of draperies. The bedroom wasn’t the queen’s. He heard the door latch wiggle and dove underneath the bed, hitting his head on the frame. He had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from cursing about the pain.

  He heard more words in Fisttian, but they were a child’s. A slippered foot passed by the bed. It was too small for the queen. The bed bounced as the girl played on the bed. Queen Ula spoke to her daughter, and the girl replied, but Ricky continued to be still.

  He heard a drawer open and a sound of delight from the child. They took the conversation out of the bedroom, and it faded a bit when the door shut. Ricky rolled out from underneath the bed and slipped back behind the draperies in the darkened room.

  The door opened. “You can come out now,” Ula sang in her accented Parantian. “I’ll try to have some food brought up. The palace goes to sleep after nightfall, unless my husband is entertaining, and that is not on my schedule tonight. You can rescue the princess.”

  “She isn’t a princess.”

  “I know,” Ula said. “As I said, Brollo keeps me posted on happenings to the north. What I learn through the palace ends up being very filtered.” Hopefully, that would change.

  Ricky fingered a coin in his pocket, thinking for a moment. “Would you like more up-to-date reports?” Ricky said.

  “You? Aren’t you the busy one, being a traitor to King Leon and all?”

  “You know all about me.”

  “Enough. I had Brollo discuss you with Baron Mansali. The baron likes you.”

  “I know,” Ricky said. “I can link with you through an enchanted token.”

  Ula’s eyes brightened. “You can?”

  Ricky nodded. “You have to touch an amulet or a coin to make it work. The effect fades over a few month’s time, but maybe it will help while I am in the palace.”

  Ula fiddled around with her neck and pulled out a necklace attached to a golden Fisttian character. “I always wear this.”

  Ricky held the character still attached to her neck. He felt the woman’s breath on his hand and tried to ignore her as he sang and enchanted the piece. He stepped away.