Mage Quest - Wizard of Yurt 3 (13 page)

“This is it,” said Dominic cheerfuly. The next castles we see wil be in the eastern kingdoms.”

I realized with a start that, somehow without my noticing it, Dominic had changed. I had always thought of him as a rather hard and surly person, but I could remember no signs of surliness for the last few weeks. Maybe being in motion, rather than sitting around a royal castle where he wasn’t even royal heir anymore, was what he had needed, in which case we should have sent him off on a quest years ago. Or maybe being clubbed on the back of the head by a bandit had knocked some good humor into him.

This thought, however, gave me another. I looked ahead with concern. The narrow road looked like an excelent place for bandits.

We continued onward, on a road so rough and pocked with holes that clearly no one had worked on it this spring. “King Warin has been neglecting his responsibilities,” commented Ascelin darkly. “His kingdom goes al the way up to the pass.”

In some places we had to go single file as the road swung sharply around a corner or climbed so steeply that a lather broke out along our mounts’ withers. But it was beautiful in a wild way, the rocks around us shaped by water and wind into grotesque formations, dark evergreens clinging to the slope with roots like giant, deformed fingers. Repeatedly, it seemed that we must have reached a dead end at last, and repeatedly the road slipped around a rock and continued on and up.

For two hours I kept alert for bandits, probing constantly with magic but finding no other human minds. I checked behind us as wel as ahead, not trusting King Warin not to send his own knights after us.

But after two hours, worn out from constant spels, I stopped. One couldn’t live like this, on the jagged edge of suspicion. We had come out above the first, steepest area and Ascelin told us we were making good progress toward the pass. A desolate meadow stretched relatively level for a half mile in front of us. With the road temporarily wide enough to ride abreast, I puled my mare even with Whirlwind.

I was tired of thinking about the Black Pearl and the Lady Claudia. “Have you ever been in the eastern kingdoms before?” I asked Dominic. “I never have; the school’s sphere of influence realy stops at these mountains.”

“I’ve meant to come here for years but, somehow, I never have either,” said Dominic. “Ever since you wizards stopped al the wars in the western kingdoms, young aristocrats have had to cross the mountains if we want to see any fighting. You know, of course, that’s how my father was kiled. I grew up with my mother warning me about the horrible dangers of looking for honor that way; by the time I was old enough to make my own decisions, I started feeling too responsible as royal heir of Yurt to folow his footsteps.”

“Wel, I certainly hope we don’t run into any wars,” I said. “We’re on pilgrimage.”

“And that’s part of the reason I’m glad we’re coming this way,” continued Dominic. “You heard King Warin talking about how everyone always admired my father. Wel, I’ve been hearing some variation of that story al my life. Maybe it was partly fear that I wouldn’t measure up to him that kept me at home, but now that I’m traveling east at last I don’t feel jealous of him so much as I want to learn more about him.

My father is buried in a pilgrimage church east of the mountains. Neither Mother nor I ever visited his grave.”

We definitely should have sent Dominic on a quest years ago.

“I don’t think, even if we run into a war, they’l bother some harmless pilgrims,” he said. “But I must admit it gives our trip a little excitement, a little spice even, which I’m afraid Yurt misses most of the time.”

“I’m interested in meeting the wizards east of the mountains,” I said. “I assume they practice essentialy the same magic as in the western kingdoms, rather than what the mages of the real East use. The book I brought along on eastern magic doesn’t include anything west of Xantium. But the magic of the eastern kingdoms may be closer to the old magic of earth and herbs than to modern school magic.” At this point, the road narrowed once more; again evergreens and rocky cliffs hung above us. I dropped in behind Dominic, keeping my mares nose wel back from Whirlwind’s heels.

I was thinking about the eastern kingdoms, wondering why the wizards’ school had never tried to influence them, when I heard a sudden grunt before me. I looked up in disbelief as Whirlwind reared, screaming. There were not one but two men on his back.

Someone had Dominic around the throat and was trying to wrestle him off and keep his own seat. This must be what he meant by excitement and spice.

Hugo and Ascelin turned sharply around and raced back to Dominic’s aid, their swords out. I madly tried to shape a spel that would bind only one of the wildly thrashing men before me—if Dominic fel off, his own stalion would trample him.

“Hang on, Dominic!” belowed Ascelin. “I’ve got the scum now!” He had the bandit by one leg and was tugging. Hugo had seized Whirlwind’s reins and tried to hold him down.

The men before me had sorted themselves out enough that, in two more seconds, I would have had a binding spel working, when I heard another grunt and thump.

“Stop!” came a ringing voice. We al stopped and looked, even the bandit trying to choke Dominic. A second man was behind Joachim on the chaplain’s horse, an arm across his chest and a knife at his throat. “Drop your swords or the priest dies.”

Ascelin and Hugo turned very slowly and dropped their swords. The bandit behind Dominic jerked the prince’s sword from the sheath and sent it clattering to the ground.

“Al of you!” yeled the bandit at King Hairneric. “And you, Wizard, don’t even think of starting one of your spels.”

“I am unarmed,” said the king. “I am on pilgrimage.”

I doubted this would make much impact. I sat my horse as though paralyzed while a third bandit appeared out of the trees and yanked the king’s and my cloaks back to look for weapons. I tried to give Joachim a look of encouragement, but his eyes were cast down and his lips moving. His horse kept shifting and he was having trouble controling it without moving his head even slightly.

I didn’t dare try any spels. Bound or paralyzed, the bandit behind Joachim might cut his throat as he fel from the horse; a flash of light or a clap of thunder could make him jerk the blade. I didn’t dare try turning him into a frog for the same reason.

I should have known at once that the lord of the red sandstone castle was not a real bandit. These men were ragged, weather-worn, filthy, and one of them was missing an eye.

“Get down, al of you!” said the first bandit. Dominic was now sitting slack before him, and the bandit had managed to gather up the reins. “We’re taking your horses. Move!” There didn’t seem to be any alternative. We al dismounted, Dominic managing to slide down on his own though rubbing his neck.

“Where’s your money?” yeled the bandit leader.

“In my saddlebag,” said King Haimeric. The bandit jerked the bag open and puled out a smal jingling pouch with satisfaction. The king didn’t mention that that was only a fraction of the money we had, as al of us had other pouches tucked into our belts.

The third bandit, who had colected everyone’s swords, now gathered up al the reins and tied the horses together single file. He mounted my mare. “Don’t try to folow us!” The leader kicked Whirlwind into motion. Al the horses surged forward, Joachim stil mounted and stil held hostage.

With a great clatter of hooves, they disappeared up the road ahead of us and around an outcropping of rock. I flew after them, not daring to let them get away while they stil had Joachim.

As I rounded the outcropping, I saw a dark figure lying stretched across the road. Paying no attention to our horses disappearing again around the next rock, I dropped to the ground beside the chaplain.

“Joachim! Say something! Are you al right? Did they hurt you?”

The chaplain, to my intense relief, started to sit up. “I’ve had al the breath knocked out of me. The bandit said something about me not being the one they wanted after al and tossed me off.” Thank God you’re alive,” I started to say, then stopped short. Joachim hesitated when almost sitting, then slumped again to the ground. A crimson stain spread rapidly across the colar of his vestments.

IV

The others ran up behind me. Ascelin dropped to his knees, puled the knife from his boot, and sliced the cloth away from Joachims neck. A jagged cut was oozing blood.

“It’s a vein, not an artery,” he said over his shoulder. “But he’s losing blood fast.” He held the edges of the wound together and tried to apply pressure.

“A good thing it’s not an artery,” commented Hugo. “You can’t very wel put a tourniquet around someone’s neck.”

I found the remark distinctly unamusing and so did Ascelin. “Start a fire,” he told Hugo, “and go find some water. You’l have to boil it. Wel, I don’t care! Use your armor if you have to.” Joachim lay perfectly stil, his eyes closed and face white. Blood kept oozing from his neck as fast as Ascelin wiped it away. In a few minutes, though it seemed like hours, Hugo returned from having found a spring among the rocks, carrying water in his breastplate. He lit a fire with the flint and steel at his belt and, without a word but with a loud sigh, balanced the breastplate over it to have al the shiny finish scorched and darkened.

“I’m supposed to be a hunter,” said Ascelin bitterly. “I should have known better than to lead us straight into ambush. Trust bandits to grab the one man who couldn’t protect himself.”

“I think they wanted Arnulf, not the chaplain,”

commented Hugo, adding twigs to his fire. “These must be the same bandits who attacked him last fal.”

“Shal we try to get him back down the mountain?” said Dominic when the water had boiled and Ascelin carefuly cleaned the chaplain’s wound. “I could carry him.” The blood had finaly stopped flowing, but Joachim had not opened his eyes again.

“It’s too late in the day,” said Ascelin. “It would take us hours to get to the castle, and I hate to move him at att.”

“And I don’t trust King Warin,” I said. “He must have told those bandits we were coming. This road’s used little enough that it wouldn’t be worth their while waiting for stray travelers.” I thought but didn’t say that if Elerius had wanted more chalenges here he should have tried getting rid of the bandits—unless Warin liked them.

King Haimeric looked at me in real distress, but Ascelin nodded. “We’l spend the night here. The chaplain’s in shock from loss of blood and must have something to eat. Try to keep him warm and give him water if he wakes up. I’m going hunting.”

He had lost his sword but stil had his bow, slung over his shoulder. He strung it and strode away, leaving the rest of us looking at each other wide-eyed.

The air was wanner than the ground. I used a lifting spel to raise Joachim about a foot and then we wrapped our cloaks around him while the sun sank toward the western horizon below us. Dominic and Hugo gathered more wood to keep our fire blazing hot. With what little attention I had left from keeping my lifting spel going, I kept probing to see if the bandits were coming back. We would be helpless, except for my magic, if they did.

But the first mind I sensed approaching was Ascelin: he had shot three rabbits. Joachim opened his eyes at last and said something so softly I couldn’t hear. I bent over to listen, then realized he was apologizing for giving us so much trouble.

I adjusted my spel to sit him up at an angle so that he could eat a little rabbit once Ascelin had skinned and roasted them. Everyone on the mountain, I thought, would see our light and know we were here.

But, with our horses and al our baggage, the bandits might wel have al they wanted of us. I took a bite of rabbit myself, so hot it scorched both my fingers and my tongue, and was surprised to discover how hungry I was.

It was now ful dark. “I’m going for a doctor,” said Ascelin, rising to his feet. “Al my ointments are gone with our baggage and I don’t like the looks of that wound.” We started to object that it was too late, but he shook his head. “I’ve got eyes like a cat. There has to be a vilage somewhere on this mountain with a competent doctor. Don’t expect me before morning.” He was gone with a rattle of loose gravel under his boots before anyone could speak again.

It was a long night Maintaining the lifting spel required al my concentration, especialy as I became more and more tired. The others took turns watching and feeding the fire. At one point Joachim woke up again and started to speak very softly. I tried to respond but found it too difficult to talk and work magic at the same time. Then it became clear that he didn’t realy need a response, that he was teling of events that had happened long, long ago, when he was stil the oldest son of a merchant in the luxury trade, before he had even thought of becoming a priest. I hoped he would tel me these stories again some time when I could listen properly.

In the darkest, stilest part of the night he suddenly said, much more clearly than he had said anything for some time, “You can let me down, Daimbert. I’m very grateful for your help, but you’re exhausted, and man is not sustained by magic alone.”

I was too tired to argue. I set him down with cloaks both under and over him, got him some water, and fel immediately into sleep so deep as to be untroubled by visions or dreams.

Several hours later I was awakened by the sound of his voice. It was stil soft, but it had changed indescribably.

I pushed myself to a sitting position. It was shortly before dawn and, although I could see our campsite clearly, everything looked unreal and slightly il. On the far side of the fire, Dominic nodded at me, but the king and Hugo were huddled together under a single cloak.

“It’s no use, Claudia,” said Joachim, very quietly. His eyes were closed; his chest was rising and faling rapidly. “I wish you wouldn’t cry. This is hard enough for me as it is. You’l always be in my prayers.” I jerked around, fuly awake. Yelowish blood was seeping from under the bandage on Joachim’s neck and his face was flushed. I put my hand on his; he patted it with his other hand. “There, I knew you’d understand. I’ve been caled to the service of God. It is a great and terrible caling, and there is only one way to answer.”