He found an inn not far from the harbor and hired a room for a moon. That should give him enough time to find the charm and secure it. He parted with a few coppers to have his clothes laundered and purchased a passable set of tailored garments that would allow him to blend in with the common folk along with a set that was worthy of any noble that he felt silly wearing. The nobles in Ryden had taken to mimicking the fashions seen at court, and that included an uncomfortable hat with the most outrageous feather Sulrad had ever seen, jammed into the brim trailing behind like a peacock. He felt the fool, but if he were to be admitted to the king’s presence, he needed to look fashionable and influential.
He also discreetly inquired where he might find a wizard or sorceress who knew the old legends. The king was no friend of wizards, and most people were afraid to even admit that they knew what a wizard was. After days of searching, he heard of an old woman named Theria. She lived on the edge of the city and was said to have the sight.
He would have been more comfortable meeting a real wizard, but if she truly was a sorceress, she could lead him to the ones who mattered.
He found her house nestled among the shops and homes on the outer edge of the city, not far from his inn.
He stood before the door, taking it in. The home, while better maintained than those around it, was not in prime condition. The roof sagged, and the thatch was in desperate need of replacement. The paint was starting to flake from the doorposts, and the door itself was in need of paint where the constant rubbing of hands had worn the color away and polished the underlying wood. He paused, wishing again that there was a more established wizard he could locate, but resigned himself to making the best of what he had.
He knocked and waited.
When no one answered, he knocked again.
Again, no one answered.
He tapped his foot and glanced around, hoping to find someone who could tell him if the occupant was presently at home and ignoring him, or perhaps she had made a brief trip to the market, and would soon return. On the off chance that she really was home, he knocked more forcefully. The door rattled beneath the impact of his fist.
Just as he was about to give up, the door creaked open. The woman who stood there was slight and bent over. She was aged and wrinkled, with a large bulbous nose and crooked teeth.
She peered up at Sulrad without a word.
“I’ve heard you have the sight,” he said.
“That is true,” she croaked. “I can see you’re a wizard.”
“Priest. I am the high priest of Ran.”
“Don’t know him, but wizard you are.” She held the door as if ready to close it on him at the slightest provocation.
“I am a wizard,” he admitted. “I have come to seek your advice.”
“The only advice I have for you is to leave an old woman alone.” She started to close the door.
“I have golds,” Sulrad said.
“Gold? You’d pay gold for my simple knowledge? Then you’re not only a wizard, but a fool. I have no knowledge worth gold, or I’d not be living here.”
“You may have knowledge worth every bit of my gold.” Sulrad hated to beg, but she might be the key. “Please.” He reached into his purse, pulled out two golds, and held them out to her.
She carefully took one from his hand and examined it. “Long way from home.”
“Yes, I have traveled far.”
She took the second coin from him and pocketed them both. She opened the door and stepped back to allow him to enter.
“I’m Theria. What is it that you seek?” she asked.
Sulrad didn’t want to come right out and say, but he had to find out what the woman knew. He debated his words and decided the direct approach was best.
“My master, Baron Reik, has heard of an amulet that is said to have great power. He desires it, and failing that, he has asked me to examine it and determine the source of its power.”
Sulrad described the amulet, sketching out the details on a piece of parchment. He filled Theria in on every aspect, giving as little information about its magical powers as he could.
“Why are you looking for such a thing?” Theria asked.
Strange that she would ask when he had already said. Was she testing him? Trying to catch him out in a lie? “My lord baron is desirous of purchasing such a piece. It is his gold you now hold.”
The woman laughed as she reached into her pocket and drew the coins out. She rubbed them together in front of his face. “There isn’t enough gold in any treasury to purchase what you seek. The only way to get the crown jewels is to conquer the king.”
Crown jewels? Had he guessed correctly? The charm was in the royal treasury. His vision was coming to pass, just as he’d imagined it. What fortune. “Thank Ran,” he muttered. He turned his attention back to the woman. “Then you know of it?”
“It is on every painting of every royal in the land. It’s part of the crown jewels. Everyone knows what it is.” She pushed the drawing across the table and slid the coins back into her pocket. She stood up and began clearing the table.
Sulrad held out his hand to stop her. “One more question.”
“No more questions,” she said.
“Do you know how I might be allowed to catch a glimpse of it? My lord baron might be satisfied if I were able to gaze at it or even hold it in my hands.”
“It’s kept in the treasury in the castle, I’d wager. I’m not a regular guest there,” she said with a cackle.
“Thank you. You have been most helpful.” Sulrad left the woman’s home with more questions than when he’d arrived, but at least he had confirmed that the amulet was in Ryden.
Now all he had to do was to get into the castle treasury.
29
After Sulrad’s first encounter with Theria, he felt it wise to get more information about the city before he made his plans. He’d learned his lesson well not to make assumptions that could lead to his misfortune, and as it turned out, Theria was more than well-versed in the goings-on about the city. Her knowledge of herbs was almost as good as his own. He wondered where she had acquired such learning. He’d thought the wizards in Amedon were the source of knowledge, but here was a woman who, on her own, had learned things he thought were found only in the great library.
Sulrad sighed. Back in Frostan, he’d had the ear of the baron. Here in Ryden, he was no better off than any commoner. It rankled him. Was this how the voice of Ran on earth deserved to be treated? One day, it would not be so, but for now, all he could do was bide his time and work at finding a way into the castle.
“You break into the treasury yet, young man?” Theria asked.
“I am not the sort to be invited into the king’s inner circle just by my mere presence,” he explained. “Even if that were the case, I doubt he would welcome even a noble poking around his treasury.”
“So you’re not a great one?” Theria cackled at her own jest. “Seemed to me when we first met, you was mighty high on yourself.”
Sulrad paused. A great one? Only one person had ever called him that, and it was in reference to the senior wizards in Amedon. Was she referring to them? Trying to catch him out and put him off guard? How was he to know she was not an agent of Amedon? Best be cautious.
“I’ve been told that I’m a difficult man to get to know, but once you do, I can be quite charming.”
“I see that. Are you really an emissary from the baron, or was that just a story?”
“I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own goals.”
Theria slapped him on the back. “Nice to hear you’re a man of your own.” She walked over to the rustic stove and bent down to light it. She stretched to reach a kettle on the top shelf, filled it with water, and placed it on the fire, then settled in the chair across from Sulrad.
“So tell me of King Omrik,” Sulrad said. “Where I come from, he’s known as little more than an evil and overbearing threat to the baron.”
Theria cackled once more.<
br />
Her laugh sounded more like a startled hen than an old woman and grated on Sulrad’s nerves, but he bit his tongue and waited. Let her talk. She might know something that could benefit him.
The old woman leaned back in her chair. “Those high and mighty folk are never satisfied, are they? I hear Omrik and Reik have a feud going way back. They’re cousins, you know. Reik says he has a stronger claim to the throne than Omrik, and they been arguing about it ever since Omrik was crowned.”
“That much I know, but what of the king? Is he wise? Compassionate? Fair? Does he hold court? Does he throw balls and entertain the royals or is he a recluse, hiding in his castle?”
“Don’t know much about him ‘sides his feud with the baron is about as foolish as they come. Omrik ain’t got no kin, and Reik only has the daughter. Neither of them have a decent heir. They fight over land like it matters more than anything in the world when they’re each at the end of the line for their name. Omrik, they say, has had everyone who could challenge him for the throne killed save Reik. Some say Reik used magic to make sure there were no challengers to his rule. Neither of them figured on fate treating them so harshly. Guess it’s only fair that the mighty get their comeuppance once in a while.”
“Does the king spend his days here in Ryden?” Sulrad asked. “Does he have an estate he enjoys? Does he travel or invite dignitaries?”
“You ask that like I should have the secrets of the crown on my lips.”
“I’m just trying to find out if the king is in residence or not. Do you know?”
“How you think someone like me is going to know any of that? The only reason I know about your jewel is because it’s so prominent on every painting, that everyone recognizes it. That means, if you intend to steal it, you’re going to have to be much more crafty than you appear. You won’t make it out of the city with that thing.”
“What makes you think I plan to steal it?” Sulrad asked. Was he that transparent? Did she see right through him?
He released a trickle of his magic, sending it questing for her. Just how much power did she possess? She was a sorceress, that much was certain, but was she more than a knowledgeable herbalist with a few spells to augment her powers?
As the magic surrounded her, her eyes opened wide. “Hold on there, sonny. I ain’t one of those maidens you might be used to having your way with. I’m an old woman and I have power, even if it don’t show.”
She twitched her fingers and his magic burst asunder. It was as if she had flexed her muscles and broken through his bonds without even trying. He’d never seen anything like it. How had she come to know such spells? Defenses like that were not even discussed in Amedon until the second or third summer for most students. Once again, he paused before pushing the thought away. He was growing paranoid. Not everyone was an agent to Amedon. He could trust her. What other choice did he have?
“Sorry,” Sulrad said. “I needed to know if you are what you say you are.”
She scowled at him. “You satisfy your curiosity?”
“Indeed, I have.”
She waggled a finger at him. “Good. Then there won’t be a repeat of this foolishness?”
“No. Forgive my forwardness. But you understand.”
“More than you know.” Theria rose and headed for the stove, turning her back on Sulrad as if she cared little for his magic. She poured two mugs of dark tea and placed them on the table, sliding one in front of him. She pulled out a chair and sat. “So tell me. How we going to steal the crown jewels without getting caught?”
“No one said I was planning on stealing anything,” Sulrad said.
Theria held up a hand. “You’re not the only wizard who can read someone’s face. How do you think I got to be so old? I know what most folk are thinking before they do. You’re here to steal that fancy necklace, and don’t try to tell me you’re not. So why you want it? Not for the baron. That much is plain. You want it for yourself. Why?”
Sulrad blinked. How could she be so bold?
He waited, hoping she would take up another matter, but the old woman simply sat, staring at him.
He decided to take a chance.
“The crown jewel, as you know it, is an ancient and powerful magical talisman.” He paused. How much to tell her? About the charm? Possibly. About the dragons? No. Not that.
“It was crafted a thousand summers past by a powerful sorcerer who made his home in Frostan. I discovered his study and learned of the talisman and have been searching for it ever since. When I learned it might be here, I forsook my comfortable home and came to see if the rumors are true.”
“So what does this talisman do?”
“Nothing. It does little more than store magic. It has no power, no spell, no magic of its own. It simply stores power so that the one who wields it may create spells that would otherwise be unfeasible.”
“Such as?”
“Making a city float in the air.” Sulrad gestured toward the ceiling.
“Don’t give me that malarky. You’re not looking to float no city.”
“No. I’m not. But I do need the magic.” Sulrad took a sip of the tea Theria had prepared. It was bitter and dark, made from the bark of a local tree no doubt, one that he was not familiar with. For half a heartbeat, he wondered if the old woman was trying to poison him. How could he have been so foolish to drink it without examining it first?
He extended his magical senses to the tea, probing for anything that might be harmful, but it was just tea, with a touch of molasses in it. The woman was unusual, but not dangerous, at least not from what he’d seen.
“Did you know that in the distant past, everyone had magic?” Sulrad asked.
“Did I know? Who doesn’t know those old children’s tales?”
“Those tales are real. Everyone had magic at one time. More often than not, it was limited. It was called the small magic, but everyone — well, almost everyone — had it. It could be used to light a fire, or call cattle from pasture, or even keep the biting insects away, if one was powerful enough. Only a few possessed the ability to harness true magic. Those like you and I. We are different. That’s why we can still do magic, but everyone else has forgotten. When studying, I came across a history that tells of the way magic was stolen from the world, and it’s my goal to restore it once more.”
“You sure do have big plans. And you think this talisman will help you?”
“I do.”
“How?”
“That’s not as clear as I’d like it to be,” Sulrad demurred. “But it is part of what I need to do. That much is certain.”
“So how we going to get into the castle?”
“We?”
“I haven’t had this much fun in ages. How do you plan to get into the treasury?”
“If I can find a way into the castle, get an audience with the king, then I can convince him to let me into the treasury.”
“You sure are confident, that much I can say.”
“I can be persuasive.”
“Just don’t try that magic on the king that you tried on me. He’s protected. You won’t get to him with magic. You better be as slick a talker as you say you are, or you’re like as not to end up in the gaol beneath the castle as in the treasury.”
“I’ll be careful,” Sulrad said. “So what do you think? How can I gain access to the castle?”
“To the castle? I have no idea. To the folk who have access to the castle? That’s a different matter. There are folks who work there that can tell you more than I ever could. You just need to find them.”
30
Garlath stood before the assembled wizards once more. He had met up with Zhimosom and Rotiaqua but failed to keep them out of trouble. Rotiaqua, angered by the social structure of Ryden, had taken it upon herself to remedy the situation. How the sorceress had even discovered how to construct the complex self-sustaining spells she had cast was a mystery. She had not only created a spell to restore power to the women of Rohir, she had tied it to the
earth and water magic that flowed through the pools and made it permanent, or nearly so. It was the worst thing that could have happened. A wizard under his charge had caused immeasurable trouble right under his nose.
He tried to calm his nerves, but he was in trouble and he knew it. Not for something he had done, nor for something he could have foreseen.
“Do we need to read the charges against you?” Helmyer asked.
“Charges?” Garlath blurted out. “What charges?”
“That is what we are here to review. Are you going to tell me you were not accompanying the new pair to Amedon when the sorceress Rotiaqua unleashed a spell that will not fade for generations? That you did not bring them directly here after such a foolish thing? Are you trying to get us killed?”
“Neither of them are rogue,” Garlath interrupted.
“We shall see. Bring them in.”
Helmyer nodded to a guard who returned with a short, rotund young woman. She was several summers past the age when magic awakened in a girl and had the air of one of royal birth to her. She wore her black hair long and loose and paused to glare at each of the wizards in turn.
“What have you to say for yourself, Rotiaqua?”
The sorceress huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “Do you know what they did in that place? Women were relegated to indoors and only allowed outside under a veil. They were led around on a leash. How can you accept that as normal?”
“Other customs are not ours. I am sure our ways appear strange to them. It is not for us to decide.”
“Not for us? What if that were your daughter?”
Dragon Lord: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 2) Page 19
