A Clash of Magics

by Guy Antibes

  Trevor stood, trying not to smile. Brother Coosin’s persuasion abilities were something to behold. He turned around to see a cart led by a real tradesman approach the gate. Trevor tugged Coosin’s sleeve and nodded to the approaching horse and wagon.

  “You have other work to do. Let us through, and we will let you be about your business.”

  Coosin took a step past the guard, who looked at the tradesman and then looked at them. He gave Trevor a quick glance, and they both walked through the gate before the guard said another word. They turned to the side to disappear from the guard’s view and walked along the wall toward the front of the castle grounds.

  “I thought we wouldn’t have to work for our entrance,” Trevor said, “but that was quite a performance.”

  “Sometimes seers must do what they can to get the proper point across. I believe the common term is ‘wheedle.’”

  Trevor laughed. “It is. Are you going to come with me to visit the queen?”

  Coosin grinned. “Of course. Perhaps I’ll get another chance to wheedle, but I’d be happy to merely greet Queen Marta and beat an orderly retreat.”

  “Our goals aren’t quite the same, but they are aligned until we face the queen,” Trevor said. They continued to walk on the castle grounds as if they owned the place and then stepped inside the first entrance they encountered.

  They stepped down half a flight of steps into the servants’ space. Trevor stopped when a door opened. Coosin turned away from the door and engaged Trevor in a meaningless conversation while Trevor watched a costumed guard adjust the buckle of his sword belt.

  “Let’s follow him,” Trevor said.

  Following the guard became easier once they let the man climb steps to the main level first. They followed him into a wide corridor. One side was lit by windows, and tall doors lined the other side. They stopped at a more ornate entrance and let the guard walk on toward his post.

  Coosin led Trevor to a podium where a man with a pleated round collar examined a paper sheet with a few names.

  “We would like an audience,” Coosin said.

  “You are?”

  “I am the aide to the duke of Listenwell.”

  The man’s nose lifted. “There is no Listenwell in Sirland. Sit while I confer with your betters.” The aide disappeared into the courtroom and returned to consult with an older courtier who returned through the doors.

  The aide beckoned them back with the crook of his finger. “Where is Listenwell?” the man asked.

  “It is one of the largest duchies in Brachia. Duke Trevor is on a trade tour. The duchy produces the finest ale in the world.”

  “It does?” the man’s eyebrows rose.

  “It rivals the brew from Zinkel’s brewery in Jilgrath,” Trevor said.

  “I have heard of Zinkel’s ale, but it doesn’t get this far south,” the man said.

  Trevor nodded. “I have people working on that. I have other interesting products to trade. I can also arrange an exclusive tour of Brachian singers. The queen might find such a tour lucrative. I am happy to talk to functionaries, but I must get the sponsorship of the queen first.” Trevor smiled. “You understand, of course.”

  “I do. What was your name?”

  “Duke Trevor of Listenwell,” Trevor said.

  The man wrote down Trevor’s name, but then he looked up. “How did you get past the main gate?”

  “Oh, that,” Trevor said with a bit of light laughter. “We are men with many talents. Persuasion being one of them.”

  “Behave, and you won’t lose your heads. I expect the current petitioner to finish early. You can go in next.”

  They walked to a space by the windows. “You can wheedle a bit yourself,” Coosin said.

  “I just followed your example. I’m used to more direct methods, but I see the benefit of a little sweet-talking. Brother Yvan does a little wheedling. I learned from him too,” Trevor said. He thought that Brother Yvan’s wheedling involved less prevarication than the method Coosin followed, but Trevor saw the advantages of the technique.

  Trevor’s name was called, and Coosin walked slightly behind as they entered the queen’s court. There were courtiers scattered about, including the man who had conferred with the aide, and the throne was flanked by two tables staffed by scribes.

  “Duke Trevor of Listenwell,” the man with the pleated collar called.

  “You may approach the queen,” a uniformed man said. He carried a halberd with a very ceremonial-looking blade.

  “Listenwell?” Queen Marta said. “I haven’t heard of that domain in any of the countries close to Sirland.

  Trevor bowed to the queen. “It is in Brachia. I recently acquired the domain and am on tour to promote commerce with other lands. A larger market will mean larger income.”

  Queen Marta laughed. “I understand that well enough. What do you have that might interest me?”

  “We make fine ale. We also have mines, including a large deposit of copper and other minerals. I have been incidentally involved with Brachian singers and could be talked into sending a troupe to Sirland. If we tour under your royal name, you will share handsomely in the sale of tickets.”

  “You are bribing me?”

  Trevor shook his head. “I am here for commerce. You asked what might interest you.”

  The queen sat back and rubbed her chin with the back of her hand. “I did, didn’t I?”

  A woman walked up beside the queen.

  “A word with my man,” Trevor said.

  The queen waved her hand as permission.

  “Do you see the woman standing to the queen’s right?”

  Coosin looked at the throne and then back at Trevor. “No one but the queen is up there.”

  “A female Maskumite magician just walked in. I would have been surprised had one not appeared.” Trevor turned. “Shall I arrange a shipment to you, first, your majesty?”

  “You didn’t bring any samples with you?” the queen said after the magician whispered in her ear.

  “No, but I might be able to make a small batch for you.”

  “You are a brewer?”

  “I have been called stranger things by Maskumite magicians,” Trevor said. He looked directly at the woman, who gasped as she made eye contact. “Were you aware there is a Maskumite magician at your side?”

  Queen Marta stood. “How could you know that?”

  “One of my stranger talents,” Trevor said. He turned to the rest of the court. “A Maskumite magician advises the queen. She knows a secret invisibility spell and has the queen under her power. Have you all wondered why the queen suddenly changed?” Trevor turned quickly and pointed at the female magician. “You should leave Sirland immediately, or I shall have my troops invade the country!”

  Queen Marta stamped her foot as the man with the halberd pointed the blade at Trevor’s throat. “How dare you! How can a Brachian duke wage war on Sirland?” the queen said.

  “I am more than a duke,” Trevor said. “I am Dryden’s Messenger.”

  The queen laughed. “I object to Dryden worship in all its forms.”

  The court hushed. Evidently, the queen had never admitted her feelings publicly.

  “More proof that she has been under Maskum’s spell. The Maskumite magicians don’t believe in Dryden and have convinced your queen that Dryden doesn’t exist,” Trevor said.

  The queen lifted her hands and bathed Trevor in fire.

  Trevor took a step forward. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  The magician must have had enough and threw a spear of white lightning at Trevor. He brushed off his court clothes.

  “Impossible!” the Maskumite said.

  “Another’s voice!” the man with the halberd said, lowering his weapon. Another bolt shot through the man.

  The court gasped, but Trevor took the halberd and threw it at the Maskumite magician. The blade hit the woman in the neck, and she fell back off the dais, clutching the curtain as she fell to the floor
behind.

  “There is a woman!” more voices cried out. Trevor ignored the queen continuing to pummel him with magic and stepped behind the throne. He hadn’t lost his ability with a spear, and what was a halberd but an unbalanced spear? The magician’s dead eyes stared at the ceiling with her hands clutching the mortal wound to her throat.

  “There she is. I didn’t believe it, but…”

  Two of the courtiers pointed to guards in the room who took the queen away after binding her hands. They approached Trevor. “Are you really a duke?” one of them asked.

  “I am many things, and the duke of Listenwell is one of them. I am also Dryden’s messenger. You may have noticed I am immune to magic,” Trevor said. “A blessing from Dryden.” Trevor didn’t like having to say that, but Coosin stood next to him, and Trevor had to justify his actions.

  “I don’t know who Dryden’s messenger is, but you were the only one who saw the magician who ensorcelled our queen.”

  “What will happen to her?” Coosin asked the courtier.

  “That is for the council of nobles to decide, those that are still alive, that is. Queen Marta has much accounting to do now that we know the reason she abruptly changed. I thank you, Duke Trevor.”

  “My full name is Trevor Arcwin.”

  “Henry’s son? I thought you looked a bit like him despite your height. I learned you had survived, but I would have never expected you to show up here,” the courtier said.

  Trevor looked up from kneeling next to the dead magician. “You knew my father?”

  “He was born with his anger,” the man said. “Queen Marta acquired hers. I will admit I thought your father got what he deserved. Sirland and Presidon were allies once, but Henry couldn’t maintain the alliance.”

  “I’m looking for allies,” Trevor said. “Maskum is behind King Worto’s visions of conquest. He was taken in just like Queen Marta was. I scared off the Maskumite magician who influenced him. Maskum has pursued the same strategy in more countries than you would imagine.”

  “And you can vouch for him, seer?” the courtier said to Coosin.

  “You know who I am?” the seer asked.

  “Of course. I wondered what brought you to court walking behind this boy. Is what he told the truth?”

  “It is.”

  The courtier nodded. “Let me take you out of the castle immediately. I know where I can find you.” The courtier looked at Coosin Escarik.

  Trevor sighed with relief. He didn’t know what would happen after throwing the halberd at the magician. There were other guards in the room, but they didn’t attack Trevor.

  The courtier led them quickly out the door they used to gain entrance. The guard bowed deeply. “Prime Minister,” he said.

  Trevor had figured their escort ranked high in Sirland.

  “If you can find a way to get out of Wistfall for a few days, that might be good. I think the city is going to be unsettled more when the queen’s current allies find out their queen isn’t queen anymore.”

  “She will be deposed?” Trevor asked.

  “Probably. For now, I’m sure we will tell the people she is sick, and that is the truth, in a way.”

  “Thank you,” the seer said.

  “Go now.”

  Trevor didn’t look back as they walked quickly through the streets of Wistfall. The city hadn’t heard the news, and Trevor knew just the place to go.

  “If your magic is strong enough, we will go to the Maskumite border with Jarkan.”

  “For a few days?” Coosin asked.

  “I have a talent I didn’t tell you about. I’m the only one in the world who can use the cuirass I wear under my clothes.”

  “It is old magic. It would have to be,” the seer said.

  Trevor nodded. “My magical immunity doesn’t allow me any power, so I have to borrow some. Not all magicians are strong enough. Are you?”

  Coosin smiled confidently. “Shall we try?”

  Trevor put his bag together and changed into his diving outfit, and when the seer returned, they went up to Trevor’s room. “I’ve tentatively sold my horse,” Trevor said.

  “And I took a carriage. Now let’s see if I’ll have to hire another one to take me back to the church.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  ~

  T revor held out a fisted arm. Coosin Escarik put his hand on Trevor’s wrist, and in an instant, they stood outside General Henkari’s garrison. “There is someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Coosin put a hand to his head. “A moment, if you please. Part of my brain is catching up. Where are we?”

  “Close to the Maskumite border, two-thirds of the way to the west side of Jarkan,” Trevor said.

  “Trevor Arcwin to see General Henkari,” Trevor said to the shocked soldiers standing guard.

  “He is in the town, sir,” one of the soldiers said.

  “Is Akku Manusa or the Viksaran I brought with me here?”

  “Prince Akku is recovering from a night in the town, but your friend is in the town. Your lady is too.”

  “And the white horse?”

  “With your friend,” the guard said.

  Trevor sighed. He had made the right choice of returning to the border, hoping that Lissa and Potur would leave Khartoo when he had gone missing. “We are going to do a little walking,” Trevor said.

  Trevor went to the inn where he had stayed briefly and found that Volst and Lissa were in residence but out in the town.

  “A room for each of us, if you have them,” Trevor said. He looked in his purse, and the payment would finally exhaust his funds. He had lost too much money selling the horse he rode from Berry Port to Wistfall.

  Trevor met Seer Escarik in the lobby, and they stepped out in the afternoon sun heading toward the town’s market. They walked through the lanes of stalls until someone ran into Trevor from behind, putting arms around his waist.

  He turned to see a blonde head. “You made it back to the border.”

  “And you are alive! I couldn’t believe you were dead,” Lissa said, her eyes watering. “No one else would wear one of those black outfits in Jarkan.” She turned to Coosin. “Who is this?”

  “My traveling companion. Let me introduce you.” He looked at Coosin. “This is Lissa Caspur, the daughter of Seer Caspur of Viksar.” Then he turned to Lissa. “This is Seer Coosin Escarik, although at present he is more like a seer on a temporary assignment. I’ll tell you later. I met him in Wistfall.”

  Volst walked up, and the introductions continued. “Did I hear you made it to Wistfall?”

  “On a ship that refused to turn back,” Trevor said. “I made the mistake of taking too much of a risk and was caught in a place where I couldn’t escape, so I jumped out a window into the sea. A ship bound for Berry Port picked me up. They were already behind schedule, so they wouldn’t turn back to Khartoo, and I made the voyage. I rode north to Wistfall and found Seer Escarik staying at the Wistfall cathedral. We teleported from there to here.”

  “I’m sure there is more to the story,” Volst said.

  Trevor nodded. “It’s not for telling in the middle of a marketplace.”

  “What is happening at the border?” Trevor asked.

  “Not in the middle of a marketplace,” Lissa said with a smirk.

  “Potur Lott is furious with you,” Lissa said after Trevor told his story over dinner with considerably more detail. “It took him a full day to find out you jumped out the window and either drowned or were picked up by a passing ship. I was confident you were picked up by the ship.”

  “Either way, I overestimated my abilities,” Trevor said.

  “Do you think you killed Gareeze Plissaki?” Volst asked.

  Trevor shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think he is the head of his cabal. If we want to cut off the Maskumites, we need to destroy the Enclave.”

  “That is what Potur said, but he admits it is impregnable from magical attack,” Lissa said.

  “I didn’t see enou
gh of it to have much of an opinion either way. I’m not a fan of enclave magicians.”

  General Henkari showed up a bit later. “You gave us quite a scare, Trevor.”

  “What is going on along the border?”

  “Nothing at present after we slapped the Maskumite hand at that inept ambush they tried,” Henkari said. “I suggest we take a trip to the eastern edge. Perhaps the seer can join us and continue into Sirland. It is less than three days to Wistfall from the border. You might want to know what is going on in that region.”

  “I could do that,” Coosin said. “I’m not a recognized seer, at least by the current ruler of Sirland, so an education will be helpful.

  They left the next morning. Akku was as bright and cheery after a full day’s rest from overdoing it before Trevor had arrived. Potur Lott joined them as a scout. Trevor had found that the man volunteered to go. He left Snowflake behind since he had unfinished business in Wistfall and would ride to the Sirland capital with Lissa and Coosin. He and Lissa could teleport back to General Henkari’s garrison when they finished in Sirland.

  “I wanted to know what happened in the enclave,” Potur said.

  Trevor told his story to Akku and Potur this time.

  “What you lack in wits, you make up with luck,” Potur said when Trevor finished.

  Akku beamed. “Selara watches out for you.”

  “Indeed she does,” Trevor said.

  ~

  The next morning, Henkari, Volst, Lott, and Trevor rode to the border, leaving Akku to talk to Coosin and Lissa about Jarkan.

  “The Maskumites aren’t pressing hard against our defenses, but they are continually testing us,” Henkari said. “At some point, they might combine their forces and attack at one of the weaker points.”

  “What about a counterattack?” Trevor asked.

  Henkari grunted, but Potur spoke. “It doesn’t make sense to press into Maskum. They still outnumber us in the border, but our troops are better, so it is a bit of a stalemate, like it usually is.”

  The general nodded. “When I oversaw the border, it was the same. Everyone waits for the vaunted Maskumite magicians to join in, but they never have.”