A Bad Spell in Yurt - Wizard of Yurt - 1 (21 page)

He acknowledged the applause with only a bob of the head, but I could tel he was highly gratified. He positioned his next two rings, said the words to finish the spel , and stepped back.

This time two winged horses appeared, lifesize and alabaster white--whiter than the young count's skin had ever been, even before I tinted it green. Flapping their enormous, feathered wings, they rose in absolute stil ness, hovered over our heads for a moment while striking at each other with their hooves, then, side-by-side, soared the length of the hal and back again, to land lightly by the fire and dissolve in a shower of sparks.

Then the wizard changed the mood, making his next il usion a clown. It looked at first like a person, wearing baggy multi-colored clothing, its face painted different colors. But then it began to dance, kicking enormous feet high into the air, and as it danced its neck suddenly grew to six feet long and shrank back again, its shoulders sprouted first wings and then rose bushes, and an extra two legs grew from its hips and danced harder than ever. The eyes winked hugely, the wide mouth leered and grinned. The whole party was weak with laughter when the clown did a final bow and disappeared with a pop.

The old wizard kept us entertained for close to an hour. Some of his il usions were beautiful, some funny, and al finer than anything I had seen produced in the City. For his final one, he started with a smal Christmas tree, which grew toward the ceiling and was suddenly transformed into a giant red Father Noel, who smiled and bowed to us al before dissolving away.

As the thunderous applause died down, the wizard returned to his place, doing a fairly good job of hiding his pleasure. "Any more of that pie left?" he said. "Il usions are hungry work."

People stood up then, stretching and talking. There were stil nearly two hours until midnight service in the chapel. I wondered if the old wizard might take advantage of the interval to go check the north tower. But he seemed content, after a final piece of pie, to sit down in a rocking chair which the queen brought out for him, and doze by the fire with the cat on his lap and a smal smile on his face. He must have risen before dawn, I thought, to start preparing those il usions and have them attached to the rings before he started for the castle.

The rest of the royal party and the guests stood or sat near the fire, chatting while the servants cleared the tables. The king was talking to the two counts and the duchess with great animation, but I noticed the queen sitting by herself, near the base of the Christmas tree. I took a chair and went to sit next to her.

She looked up at me with a smile. "I hope you realize we are very happy with you as Royal Wizard," she said, "even if you don't do il usions like your predecessor!"

I personal y thought that my dragon and giant had been at least as impressive in their own way, even though they had lacked the visual solidity of the old wizard's productions, especial y since I had created them entirely on the spot. But I looked into the emerald eyes and knew that this comment had been meant to be reassuring.

"I'm very happy being at Yurt, so I'm glad you think that," I said. We were far enough from the rest of the party, and everybody else was talking loudly enough, that our conversation was highly private. I had drunk quite a bit of wine with dinner. "You know, " I said, "I'm very much in love with you."

This confession was met with a pleased laugh. She clearly did not believe a word of it, but she did take and squeeze my hand. "When you turned the count into a frog," she said, "he real y was a frog, wasn't he? That wasn't just an il usion."

"No, he real y was a frog. If I hadn't changed him back, or another wizard changed him back, he would have stayed a frog for the rest of his life. Of course, inside, he would stil be himself. He just wouldn't be able to talk or make insulting comments about wizards."

She laughed again. "You are a fine wizard, but it's probably just as wel you changed him back."

"Could I ask you something, my lady?" I said. I actual y wanted to ask if she could ever love me too, but I was fairly sure I already knew the answer to that. "I'm afraid it's a fairly personal question."

"Wel , what is it?"

"I want to know why you decided to marry the king."

If it hadn't been for the wine, I would have been quite shocked at my boldness. She did not seem shocked, however, but looked fondly toward him, as he talked to his subjects in front of the fire.

"Was it to keep him from marrying the duchess?"

She turned back toward me, laughing again. "Oh dear, is it that obvious? No, I don't think he was ever in danger of marrying her, so that wasn't the reason. I just fel in love with him."

I did not reply. This answer seemed quite inadequate.

But she had drunk quite a bit of wine at dinner as wel . "You know I'm my parents' only child," she said at last. I nodded, waiting for her to continue. "They were of course eager to see me married. And of course, like parents everywhere, they wanted me to marry wel , marry at least a castel an like my father, but preferably a count or duke."

I thought I could guess what was coming.

"They kept on introducing me to young men from throughout the western kingdoms. Maybe my Aunt Maria was the worst. She always tried to make the young men seem romantic, charming, wonderful, to the point that I already despised them before I met them. I actual y enjoyed being introduced to lots of young men, because there were al sorts of opportunities for dances, for hunting parties, for buying new clothes, but I couldn't imagine actual y marrying any of them. They were al , frankly, sil y, vain, or shal ow--or al three.

"We'd exhausted several kingdoms already before we came to Yurt. The last man they tried was the young count of Yurt." She nodded in his direction. The green had by now worn off his skin.

"He wasn't count yet, as his father was stil alive four years ago, when my parents tried to persuade me to marry him. But his personality was already--shal we say--ful y developed." She went into a series of giggles at this point that made several people look in our direction.

After a moment she regained her composure. "I told my parents I was going to become a nun, that I would enter the Nunnery of Yurt and spend the rest of my live in prayer and pious devotions. They were horrified, of course, and as I look back I'm quite horrified myself at my determination. I almost managed to do it."

"I have trouble seeing you as a nun, my lady."

"So do I, now. But I told them they had one final chance, to introduce me to a young man I would like before I took my vows of chastity. We were on our way to meet somebody, I don't even remember who, now, when we stopped at the duchess's castle--her mother and my mother were second cousins.

"As it turned out, the royal family of Yurt was visiting the duchess at the same time. I think my father had some idea of making a match between Prince Dominic and me, which would certainly have been more advantageous than whoever, in the next kingdom over, he had original y chosen for his final effort--Dominic is, after al , royal heir to Yurt.

"But my father reckoned without the king! He fel in love with me, and since nobody at al was trying to persuade me that he was young and gal ant and charming, I fel in love with him! He actual y is more gal ant and charming than anyone I've ever met."

She looked toward him dreamily, even though he appeared at the moment to be tel ing an especial y hilarious joke to the duchess. I was quite sure she would never cal me charming and gal ant.

"That's a wonderful y charming story," I said. This seemed to put a final end to the theory that she had put an evil spel on the king, and I was delighted to see the theory go.

"What are you two laughing about over there?" cal ed the king. "Come here, my dear. The countess says she has some very interesting news you would like to hear, some gossip from the City."

The queen gave me a quick smile and sprang up, and in a moment she and the old count's wife were talking with their heads together. I guessed that the interesting news was about the new winter fashions, since the countess drew out a newspaper folded open to a page of sketches.

I sat back, my feet stretched in front of me, and did my best, in a spirit of Christmas-time charity, not to suspect Joachim of almost having kil ed the king. It seemed ironic that the queen and the chaplain, the two people in Yurt whom I liked the most, were the two people to whom my thoughts kept returning whenever I wondered who might have become involved with renegade magic.

Just before midnight, we al started up the narrow stairs to the chapel. I was worried that the old wizard would take the opportunity of being alone to slip off to the north tower, but to my surprise--and I think almost everyone else's--he said he would join us at service. "I've been wanting to see these lamps you told me about, young whippersnapper," he said affectionately.

For Christmas Eve, even the chapel was decorated with evergreen boughs, and some of the candles on the altar were red and green as wel as white. Everyone in the castle was there, crowded together companionably on the benches. The chaplain's vestments were brand new, brought up from the City on the pack train with al the constable's orders just a few days ago. He read us the Christmas story, which while we al knew wel was always worth hearing again, before proceeding to the service itself.

The only way I could suspect him was to assume that he had done something truly evil, such as dealing with a demon, but that he had then just as truly repented, because otherwise his prayers would not have healed the king. But if he was truly repentant, he could have nothing to do with the stranger, and his presence could not be related to the sense of evil I stil sometimes felt. I was left being forced to think that the stranger was someone total y foreign to the castle, who had come here to practice black magic--perhaps in our cel ars--for his own purposes, but this was a very unsatisfactory explanation. The queen had come to Yurt, the king had grown il , the old chaplain had died, and the present chaplain had arrived, al within a year, and there had to be some connection.

"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" we al told each other as we separated after service. The stars were bright and incredibly distant in a black and icy sky. I watched as the old wizard, his face holding the same determinedly skeptical expression it had had throughout the service, went toward his room. He showed no sign of going to inspect the north tower. "Sweet dreams of presents!" somebody cal ed, and there was a general laugh as the guests retired to their chambers and the castle party to theirs.

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear. Since there were so many guests in the castle, rather than having the serving maids bring us our breakfasts individual y we al assembled in the great hal . Here the cook had produced another masterpiece. Whole hams, platters of steaming sausages and eggs, donuts, crul ers, and giant silver teapots were set out on the tables. Everyone was in a jol y Christmas mood; I even saw the chaplain smiling at a joke.

Once we had eaten, it was time for the presents. Packages wrapped in red and green paper, presents from the king and queen to everyone in the castle, were piled under the Christmas tree. The queen distributed these with smiles and laughter. Most of us received gifts of gold coins, or rings, or clothing. I received a new velvet suit, of midnight blue, which I wished I could try on at once. Even our guests received smal presents, and the old wizard had to smile when he pul ed out a gold ring shaped like an eagle in flight, holding a tiny diamond in its beak. The calico cat played in the scattered ribbon, chasing and biting it.

Then the husbands and wives and lovers gave each other gifts, some of them apparently jokes that they wouldn't let the rest of us see, although they giggled quite a bit. I tried unsuccessful y to spot what was in the box Jon gave Gwen, though it made her smile and blush a most becoming pink before she slammed the lid back on. Most of the ladies received such a present, though not the Lady Maria.

At this point on Christmas morning, it was usual y time for Father Noel to come in with presents for the children, except that we had no children in the royal castle of Yurt. The serving girls and stable boys, even the boys being trained in knighthood, were al old enough that they would have been acutely embarrassed to receive a gift from Father Noel. But I knew someone who would love such a gift.

I slipped out while the knights and ladies were stil teasing each other over their presents. In my room, I hastily put on my old red velvet pul over, stuffed the stomach round with socks, and draped a piece of rabbit fur I had gotten from the constable's wife around my neck. A little il usion made my eyebrows and beard bushy and white.

"Ho, ho, ho, boys and girls!" I cried as I reentered the hal . "And have you al been
good
little boys and girls this year?" They recognized me at once, in spite of the disguise, and everyone except one of the boys, who clearly thought he was about to be embarrassed publicly, laughed heartily.

"I've just got one present today, for an especial y good little girl," I said, in my best jol y tone. "Let's see, there's a tag on this present, it wil tel you who's the lucky girl!"

I made a major production of reaching into my sack and slowly pul ing out a large box wrapped in red. "Let me see," reading the tag, "I think this says the present is for, let me be sure here, for someone named Maria. Is there a
very
good girl named Maria here today?"

She laughed with delight, as I knew she would, and came forward for the box. I let the white bushy beard fade back to my own beard as we watched her open it.

Inside the first box, which she opened with giggles of anticipation, was, not the present she was expecting, but another box, this one wrapped in green. Inside the second box was a much smal er one, this one golden. But inside the third box was the present.

She drew it out slowly, unfolding it to gasps of appreciation from the other ladies. It was a white silk shawl, printed with irises, which I had had packed up from the City earlier in the week.