by Guy Antibes
“I think Dryden guided Trevor to the mound at Gnarled Wood .” Brother Yvan said. “Trevor was in the right place, at the precise time he needed refuge, and found the place that transformed him.”
“It is all the same to me,” Reena said, “and I think there are more coincidences to come, although perhaps none quite so dramatic. Have you felt any different through the process?”
Trevor wasn’t at his most comfortable having his friends talk about his talents. “Certainly,” he said. “But I put most of it to growing with new experiences.”
Custik nodded. “Of course, and Dryden hasn’t exactly protected you.”
“Other than not being killed or maimed, I have plenty of scars to prove that. I have been healed during the teleportations, though, so my health has been preserved.”
“I consider that a weapon,” Custik said, “that no one else has, even if you have to have a magician of some power around to teleport you in and out of trouble.”
“Most things don’t come easy,” Trevor said. “I had to fight for Listenwell even though I was given all the paperwork.”
“And you let a good portion of it fall into the hands of that crooked solicitor,” Lissa said.
“You will tell me what your appointment really is, won’t you?” Custik asked.
“What a messenger is supposed to do?” Trevor asked.
The magician nodded. “I’m sure it will be an important role in stopping King Worto—”
“And those behind him,” Glynna Bostik said. “We have to think big.”
Trevor wasn’t averse to that. He had been to seven countries since first leaving Presidon, and that didn’t count Ginster, their next destination. There were more to come, he guessed, and Trevor would have to be prepared for anything, but still, what did Dryden’s messenger really do? Was there a specific message he had to deliver to the world?
“What do you all think a messenger does?” Trevor asked.
Brother Yvan, the person Trevor thought most likely to know, shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not that learned in ancient history.” The cleric looked at all of them. “I don’t think any of us are.”
Glynna smiled sadly. “I used to have quite a few books that we might have used, but they were used for a large bonfire.”
“That is another reason not to put off traveling to Ginster,” Trevor said. “I think we should leave tomorrow.” Trevor turned to Volst. “Can you be ready?”
Volst raised an eyebrow. “I’m always ready, and my father and I had a long talk this afternoon. He feels I should go.”
“Good,” Brother Yvan said. “Trevor and a magician of his choice will be able to return not long after we reach Collet. I suggest we take a little time and have our two most powerful magicians imbue Trevor’s sword and breastplate with magic before we leave so he can get back here on his own.”
They decided on using Glynna’s townhouse as a dedicated landing spot for Trevor even though Custik and Glynna had started their new life together in another residence.
After dinner, Trevor and Lissa followed Glynna and Custik through the still-familiar streets of Jilgrath until they came to the townhouse that Glynna had let them use before. The house brought back recent memories.
He wandered down to the practice room that had been kept clean, but the benches from Volst’s dueling club were still lining the walls.
Custik walked in with a pipe in his hand. “This is the only place in the house where Glynna lets me smoke this.” He blew some smoke rings after puffing on the pipe for a bit. I think the aroma mixes nicely with the lingering smell of honest sweat that your club generated.”
“At least someone did a good job wiping up all the blood,” Trevor said.
Custik winced at the comment. “I came down to tell you that Glynna has some dessert to make you sweeter.”
They ate in the sitting room that Trevor had used so many times before during his weeks in Jilgrath. Glynna took him upstairs to his old bedroom.
“Mark this well in your mind. We will keep it empty until you are finished with your work,” Glynna said. “You can use this house instead of seeking an inn every time you visit.” She narrowed her eyes at Trevor. “I will demand visits.”
“I can promise that.”
Glynna’s scowl turned into a more pleasant face. “Good. Make sure you do. I will expect you to say goodbye.”
Trevor nodded. Custik joined them. “You brought your cuirass?”
Trevor parted his shirt. “It fits me very well.”
“Indeed. Glynna and I can put enough power in your sword and in this thing,” Custik tapped his finger on the exposed breastplate. “It should be enough to get you back here.”
Trevor stood as the pair mumbled a vague chant as they worked on stuffing magic into Trevor’s things. He left them and walked around the square, disappointed that the armorer who had remade his Jarkanese weapons had closed his shop. A carriage was parked by one of the restaurants and Trevor was delighted that it hadn’t picked up another fare. On the way to the inn, Trevor gazed out the window at Jilgrath’s streets and realized that the city didn’t feel like it had when he arrived with Win, Brother Yvan, and Mara months ago. He didn’t know if that was good or bad, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t the same anymore.
Chapter Seven
~
T revor turned in the saddle to see Jilgrath disappear from view as they headed north toward Collet, the capital of Ginster. It felt odd that Lissa wasn’t at his side as she had been for the past few months, but between Brother Yvan and Volst’s chattering, the ride wouldn’t be dull.
Their route was shared by wagons and other travelers, taking them through farmlands until they reached a low range of mountains where the border guards were at the summit. After waiting in line for the Viksaran guards to let them through to the Ginster side, Trevor entered yet another country he hadn’t visited before, even though the Ginsterian army had drafted Desolation Boxster and him during the war fought against his father.
“Trevor Arcwin?” the Ginsterian guard asked when they reached the Ginster border post.
“That is what the papers say.”
“Any relation to the royal family in Presidon?”
“Yes,” Trevor said. “King Henry and his family weren’t the only Arcwins in the world.”
The guard grunted and let him pass.
Volst laughed when they were out of earshot of the guards. “Nicely done, and you didn’t even have to lie.”
“No, he didn’t,” Brother Yvan said with a smile. “Manwell Arcwin lived in Jilgrath. Now prepare yourself to descend into Ginster: a rocky land of trees, sheep, and goats.”
“Like Grilla?” Trevor asked.
“Bigger, with more grazing land and little in the way of a wine industry. Our orchards grow more than apples, and we actually have a farming industry, but just enough to feed the populace, so Okora is our largest trading partner.”
Volst nodded his head, but Trevor knew that Ginster had all kinds of industry, and among all those rocks that Brother Yvan had mentioned were all sorts of minerals, including quite a bit of iron. Trevor looked forward to riding through the country of his mentor’s birth. Ginster was much richer than bucolic Presidon.
Trevor didn’t know how to describe the architecture, but it was different from other places. All the villages had slate roofs, but the windows were uniformly smaller, and the houses seemed more angular with little in the way of decoration. He didn’t see a thatched roof anywhere.
Collet was about the same distance from Jilgrath as Jiksara, so they would spend one night in an inn before getting to the Ginsterian capital. The inn was much the same as any inn that Trevor had visited. Most of the patrons drank wine imported from Grilla.
“Ginster has a different feel,” Volst said to Brother Yvan as they ate a grilled lamb dinner.
“Lamb is the staple meat,” Brother Yvan said. “We often joke about Dryden sowing rocks in Ginster as he made the world.”
Tre
vor expected armed men to surround him at any moment, but nothing happened until they reached Collet. Guards in polished armor stopped them at the city gate and asked for identity papers if they had them.
“This says you are Trevor Arcwin,” an officer said after one of the guards called the man over after consulting a book of names. “You were the prince of Presidon?”
“I was,” Trevor said.
“What is your business in Collet?”
Trevor didn’t like the man’s hostile attitude. “I am here at the invitation of Lister Vale. This is Brother Yvan, a traveling seer.”
Brother Yvan handed over his papers.
The officer looked at Brother Yvan. “You can go in, but I can’t allow an enemy of Presidon entrance into our city,” the officer said but turned back to Trevor. “You shouldn’t have made it across the border. Get back on your horse and leave Ginster.”
“Even if I’m here by invitation?”
“I am the authority over this gate, and you are not allowed through. You’ll find it the same at the other gates.”
“I’m no longer connected to Presidon and am currently the duke of Listenwell in Brachia.”
Trevor’s declaration didn’t mollify the officer. “Then go back to Brachia.”
“I will consult with my friends,” Trevor said. He took his friends aside and out of the officer’s hearing. “If you could take our horses into the city, Volst and I will have to find another way in.”
“You will beat me to seer headquarters?”
“We will,” Trevor said. “There is no reason to try to reason with the officer.”
“I agree,” Brother Yvan said. He grabbed the reins of the horses and made it through the gate.
“You get to do some unique traveling,” Trevor told Volst. They walked back to a line of stalls selling snacks to travelers entering the city.
Trevor stood staring at Volst. “Do you have enough power to get me inside?”
Volst shrugged. “How would I know until we try?”
Trevor held out his hand, and Volst grabbed Trevor’s pinky finger. In an eyeblink, they were in the ancient chamber in the basement of the seer headquarters.
Volst swayed on his feet. “That was exhilarating. Is this how it felt each time you traveled?”
Trevor groaned. “I thought I’d gotten used to it, but your magic is barely enough. I’m not feeling so good.” He took a deep breath to clear his head. “Let’s go find Brother Yvan.”
The pair attracted stares when they ended up in the headquarters lobby.
“Are you looking for someone?” a robed cleric asked, approaching the pair of them sitting on a bench.
“Lister Vale,” Trevor said. “But we are waiting for a member of our party to arrive.”
“And who might that be?”
“Brother Yvan Grindeworm.”
“You know Yvan?”
“He taught me much of what I know.”
The cleric’s eyebrows rose. “Then you must be the prince of Presidon. I’m surprised they let you through the city gates.”
“I have my methods,” Trevor said.
The cleric nodded. “There are some rumors about you. Wait for Yvan, then.”
Trevor went through three more encounters with nosy clerics until Brother Yvan approached them. He didn’t come through the main entrance.
“Been waiting long?” Brother Yvan said.
“You know the time we arrived. I’ve been asked four times what I’m doing here,” Trevor said.
“And I’m sure you entertained four different clerics. Shall we scare up the head seer?” Brother Yvan said.
“We should do that,” Trevor said.
Volst still looked shocked after he had teleported into the seer headquarters. “Where do we go?”
“Follow me,” Brother Yvan said.
They ended up in Lister Vale’s office.
“You have made your decision?” Lister asked Trevor after Volst was introduced.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Yes, you do. Dryden always provides choices, although you may not recognize a circumstance as a choice. You returned to Collet. That was a choice. You could have stayed in Brachia to live out your life as a duke, but here you are talking to me.”
“Since I’ve already started, I suppose the answer is yes, but I’m not sure what I am to do,” Trevor said.
“The messenger of Dryden. It is a calling just as it is for a seer. You have already been called. That is why a seer can find you, although you aren’t the brightest beacon among us. And now that you have formally accepted the calling by returning, I will be more specific. You are Dryden’s general, which is a heavy mantle since we don’t have an army. You will have to raise one to vanquish Dryden’s enemies.”
“King Worto?” Volst asked.
“That is a good question and one that Trevor will have to answer,” Lister Vale said.
Brother Yvan told the head seer about their adventure in Okora.
“King Worto has been seeding these invisible magicians throughout the world?” Volst asked.
“No,” Trevor said. “Maskum has. Remember, King Worto wasn’t aware Gareeze Plissaki was whispering in his ear. Maskum is the source. Once I verify that, what can I do?”
“Whatever you want. You are on your own. You are equivalent to a seer, but you don’t operate as an arm of the seers. As Dryden’s messenger, your actions are between Dryden and you.”
“But what if I make a mistake?” Trevor asked.
“Don’t you believe in Dryden?”
Trevor nodded. “I do, but I don’t have a personal relationship. No one does.”
The head seer leaned forward. “But can’t you see his hand in your affairs once you left Tarviston?”
“I can.”
Lister Vale shrugged. “Then that is what you will expect. Act confidently, and Dryden will guide you without you knowing it.”
“He has been guiding me and others for some time,” Trevor said.
Lister laughed softly. “Then you know what I mean, and so does Dryden.”
~
Collet was much bigger than Trevor had thought since he had never been out of the seer’s headquarters. The seers made Des Boxster identity papers for him, which made negotiating Collet’s streets easier. With Brother Yvan as their guide, Trevor and Volst were given a thorough tour of the city.
“No Zinkel’s ale in Ginster,” Brother Yvan said as they walked into a pub for lunch. “Ginster is very protective of local producers.”
“Unless they can’t make it on their own,” Volst said drily.
“Right,” Brother Yvan said.
The pub was mostly quiet, something that was unique in Trevor’s experience. “This place isn’t very boisterous.”
“Against the law,” the cleric said. “Lots of laws in Ginster. I was glad to leave. When I returned with Eila, I thought I could make a go of it, but it was too much for me and too much for Eila.”
They stepped out after their meal and were immediately surrounded by guards of some kind. There were too many to fight.
“This is a great start,” Trevor said after folding his identity papers that didn’t work.
They were gently pushed down the street and were incarcerated in a small jail.
“We won’t end up here,” Trevor said. “I suppose we will have to wait until higher-ups are told I’ve been captured.” He walked to the door and grunted. A guard locked the door with a key, and Trevor could not walk out of the cell.
“Are they going to execute us?” Volst asked. “I’m thinking coming to Ginster wasn’t the best of ideas.”
Trevor sat on one of the cots. “We’ll wait. I’d like to know why I’m being detained and why I wasn’t allowed in the city. Why didn’t they arrest me at the gate? The border guard let me through, the gatekeeper sent me back to Viksar, and now I’m arrested. If I’m to be Dryden’s messenger, I can’t be running for my life in every city.”
“Do you have your
appointment from Head Seer Vale?” Brother Yvan asked.
Trevor patted his pockets. “I left it at your headquarters.”
“Our headquarters,” Brother Yvan said with a smile. He didn’t seem bothered at all.
Volst shook his head. His arms were folded, and he was sitting up in the corner of his cot. “This happens too often when I’m around you,” Volst said.
“Would you like to leave the cell?” Trevor asked.
“Of course.”
Trevor walked over to him and grabbed his wrist. In an instant, they were in the room assigned to them at the headquarters. Volst bounced on the floor.
“Sorry about that,” Trevor said, rubbing his suddenly aching forehead. “You end up in the same relation to the floor of the place you left. Don’t ask me how it works.” Trevor picked up his messenger document and grabbed Volst’s hand to help him up. As soon as Volst stood, Trevor transported both of them back to the cell.
“That wasn’t very decent of you,” Volst said, brushing off his clothes. “I would have expected a friend would leave me behind.”
Trevor laughed through his pounding headache. “This friend doesn’t want to antagonize his captors any more than necessary. You two should be let go as soon as we get some kind of hearing or interrogation.”
Brother Yvan looked up from the cot he sat on. “Trevor is right on a couple of counts. Right to bring you back and right to bring himself back.”
They waited for less than an hour when a guard unlocked the cell door. “Out,” the guard said and not a word more.
Trevor patted the paper in his pocket, hoping it might be helpful, but even Brother Yvan didn’t know if the appointment would do any good. The seer headquarters wasn’t a powerful political force in Collet. Ginster’s prime had never asked for a seer the entire time she had ruled the country. Power created jealousy. Trevor had seen similar things during his travels. The very concept of Jarkanese focuses was a result of jealousy.
They followed the guard to an interrogation room. As far as Trevor was concerned, they all looked alike, no matter what the culture. An older uniformed man and a well-dressed middle-aged woman didn’t rise when they walked in. They pointed Trevor and his group to three chairs set up on the other side of a table.
