Sinners of Magic (22 page)

He made an instant decision: he
must call together the other wizards of Oakwood and begin a quest
to find and punish those responsible. He thought about his blood
brothers, Elveria, Mordorma, Amafar and Voleton and how they would
be eager to ride by his side, but where would they start? It would
be tricky, but there were already rumours of an elf warrior who had
been seen making his way through the woods the very night the
keeper vanished.

Bridgemear knew he was no
longer welcome in the realm of Nine Winters, not since his affair
with Princess Amella, and agonising memories of her rushed inside
his head and he winced in physical pain. He shook his head in a bid
to shake her image from his mind but it was no use; she would
always haunt him. He had lost his heart to her many years before,
his beautiful Amella; yet he had been the one to betray their love
and the cold touch of truth made him shiver.

When the Order of the Elders
found out what they had done they had turned cruel, using the
ancient scriptures and written laws of their time to punish them
both for their crimes. Amella had suffered the most. They had taken
everything from her, including her child, all in the name of
justice and for what gain? Bridgemear winced; if only she hadn’t
given the child the amulet, the key to her realm, she could have
returned to her people, but Amella had wanted to give the child
something other than the gift of life.

The Elders explained the
consequences to which they would accept the child as an offering to
the realm. At the great table of wisdom, it was decreed what fate
had in store for their daughter. It was proclaimed the child would
be sent to the ordinary world to live with the plain folk, banished
for her father’s sins and given to a mere mortal. A woman whose
newborn child would die from cot death and therefore be replaced
with the mage’s own flesh and blood.

Amella loved Bridgemear so much
she’d agreed to their terrible terms, fearing for her lover’s life.
Bridgemear was overwhelmed with only one emotion – relief – and
Amella’s continual stream of tears for her unborn child did nothing
to soften his heart. He saw the babe only as a crucifix, a burden
to be carried until such time they would be free of it. He believed
the child had changed everything, ruining any chance of a life
together, and so he wanted no part of it. Shortly before Crystal
was born the love they shared grew strained. Resentment burned
between them like a raging fire until the anger and misery they
suffered finally erupted, tearing them apart. The final nail thrust
deep into his heart was when he was told he was forbidden to ever
set eyes on Amella again. This was a condition set to punish him by
the Elders for all eternity and he felt the pain of her loss every
day.

A cry of rage escaped from his
tormented body and ricocheted from every corner of the room faster
than a bullet from a desperate soldier’s gun. He knew he must keep
focused on the problem at hand and not stray onto the path that led
to the past. He must forget Amella as best he could and find
instead the one responsible for taking the keeper, but sometimes
her memory would not lie low.

The wizard made his way through
his many chambers to the outside world, which brought him to the
waterfall of Valandil. He wasted no time in stripping off his
clothing and plunging naked into the icy waters, the shock of the
freezing water cleansing his mind of all his agonising thoughts.
Once revitalised, he swam with confidence, diving under the water
and breaking through its surface until he was gasping for air. The
waterfall fell about him in a rapturous cascade, the noise of the
falls almost unbearable to his ears, but he loved the noise, for it
allowed him not to think.

He eventually pulled himself
from the sanctuary of the water and his naked body glistened in the
bright sunlight. He felt none of the inhibition of a mere mortal.
Nature had found peace within itself here; captivated by the
consuming beauty of its surroundings, embarrassment did not
exist.

His jaw flexed when a breeze
whipped the air and he shook his body, eager to be dry. The cool
wind wrapped itself around him, forming a cocoon of air and once
dry he returned to his den. He decided tomorrow would be soon
enough to start his journey, today he would simply rest and prepare
himself for what was yet to come.

*

The following morning, a warm
sun protruded the white, fluffy clouds and Bridgemear came out of
his den with a calmer spirit. He would leave his stave behind due
to the laws of the realms but his sword would never leave his side.
He flung a thick, black cloak about his shoulders and fastened it
with a dazzling jewelled brooch. He stroked the brooch
absentmindedly – it had been a gift from Amella.

Bridgemear saddled his horse
and then visited each kingdom within the realm of Raven’s Rainbow
and gathered the four Oakwood mages by nightfall. They stayed in
Elveria’s den, a place carved inside the hill of Quintel.
Bridgemear stood by the silvery windows of Elveria’s moon room, a
place he used for his guests, and the wizard felt pleased to be
surrounded by his brothers.

Elveria was the elder mage. His
lined face was devoid of humour and his eyes were sunk deep into
their sockets. His beard was long and white, reaching almost to his
waist, and he tucked it into his belt to help keep it from rolling
up to his chin The wandering spirits which roamed the mountain had
already whispered to him of the disappearance of Nekton and because
he was the most feared, they told no one else of their
findings.

‘
I’m sure we
will find out what has happened at Fortune’s End,’ Elveria said,
turning to Bridgemear and showing his eyes were filled with
concern. ‘However, I feel there are a few things we need to clarify
before we go any further. Would you mind if I start by asking you a
few questions?’

‘
No, not at
all,’ replied Bridgemear, moving closer. ‘Why, ask away, for I will
tell you anything I can.’ Elveria nodded, looking
pleased.

‘
You know we
have had our differences over the years, especially with what
occurred with you and Princess Amella, but with this disgraceful
situation upon us, I wish to set those disagreements
aside.’

Bridgemear appeared to squirm
under his watchful eye.

‘
So, start by
telling us what you know to be fact,’ said Elveria, observing the
red glow of humiliation burning on Bridgemear’s cheeks. Bridgemear
cleared his throat but could not look the elder mage in the
eye.

‘
It is as I
said earlier; the traveller went to the resting place at Fortune’s
End and saw it was deserted. Upon closer inspection the keeper was
nowhere to be seen and the place was found to be completely
ransacked. However, one thing is strange.’

‘
Go on,’
urged Elveria, with a wave of his hand.

‘
Well, it
would appear the intruder who was seen riding in my woods left his
horse tethered to the side of the hut. Now, who would do this for
it would mean they would have to leave Fortune’s End on
foot?’

‘
I smell
serious trouble,’ interrupted Mordorma. He was Bridgemear’s closest
brother.

‘
Mmm, I don’t
like the sound of this either,’ said Voleton, who was one of the
younger mages. ‘For I believe this attack was planned.’

‘
I think
you’re right,’ agreed the youngest wizard, Amafar. ‘Nekton wouldn’t
just vanish into thin air without a trace.’

‘
Indeed,’
said Mordorma, nodding his head in agreement. ‘Whoever took the
keeper made sure they didn’t leave any clues.’

‘
So, tell
us,’ said Elveria, turning his attention back to Bridgemear.
‘Couldn’t your stave identify the culprit when they approached the
keeper’s rest?’

‘
No,
surprisingly not,’ said Bridgemear dropping his head in
frustration. ‘But I have heard there was an elf warrior seen riding
through my woods and who stayed at Fortune’s End that very
night.’

‘
Then we
shall ride to the elf kingdom and see what King Gamada has to say
for himself,’ said Elveria, his eyes narrowing with
suspicion.

‘
But I am
forbidden to enter the elf realm,’ gasped Bridgemear, astonished at
the mere suggestion of entering Amella’s realm.

‘
Yes, you
are,’ agreed Elveria, ‘but this is different; their people are just
as welcome in our realm as you are in theirs. I think it only fair
that you come with us to the Kingdom of Nine Winters, after all
what’s good for the goose ...’

Bridgemear blanched.

‘
I’m not sure
if I can ...’

It was Mordorma who came to his
rescue.

‘
You will not
be alone,’ he said in a soothing tone. ‘I know it won’t be easy for
you to return, but we must unite as one if we are to gain the
answers we seek.’

Bridgemear held his gaze.

‘
I know
you’re right, brother,’ he said turning pale, ‘but what if I see –
her?’

‘
That will
never happen whilst there are stars in the sky. Amella is long
gone, no one has clapped eyes on her for many years and you should
not worry yourself with such thoughts. Be strong and look towards
the future for the past holds nothing but pain for you.’

The next morning, the four
wizards rode at Bridgemear’s side, their frustration worn like a
warrior’s mask on their taunt faces. They would deal with whoever
had defied their laws with a penalty worth a wizard’s wrath and so
they rode to find answers and to defend their forefathers’
wishes.

After crossing much land they
began to tire and Bridgemear slowed his pace.

‘
Do you
really think it was the elf who took the keeper?’ asked Voleton,
pulling hard on the reins to manoeuvre his horse to walk beside
Bridgemear’s.

‘
It’s
possible,’ he conceded. ‘No one can be absolutely sure either way,
but he is the only lead we have. The one thing that puzzles me is
that for some reason my magic could not help me trace him, which I
find hard to comprehend.’

‘
Do you think
they used forbidden magic to disguise the attack?’ asked Mordorma,
who also moved closer on hearing snippets of conversation from
behind Voleton.

‘
Again, it’s
possible,’ Bridgemear answered, kicking his horse with his stirrups
to force her on.

‘
Who would
want to do this?’ murmured Voleton, when Bridgemear was well out of
earshot.

‘
Someone who
feels they have a lot to gain,’ Mordorma replied, aware of a sudden
chill in the air.

‘
It has to be
someone willing to take a huge risk,’ Voleton remarked.

Mordorma turned in the saddle
and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Then we had better make haste
and find the culprit before they have chance to cause more
chaos.’

Voleton was about to agree when
something caught his eye and he called out a warning.

‘
Look, two
riders are approaching,’ he said, pointing over to the west. ‘Can
you see, over there, on the horizon?’

Each mage stopped and turned
their horses, straining their eyes to look to where Voleton still
pointed. Sure enough two small, black specks were making their way
closer, the haze from the sun causing their outlines to shimmer
like an illusion.

‘
One of the
riders is an elf warrior,’ said Elveria, closing his eyes to slits,
‘and the one who rides with him,’ he added, raising his thick
eyebrows in disbelief, ‘is the one we seek, for it is the keeper of
Fortune’s End.’

Stunned by Elveria’s
announcement, no one attempted to meet the two riders; instead,
they sat in silence, deep in their own thoughts, and waited for
them to draw near.

The thud of the horses’ hooves
vibrated through the hardened soil, a beat which was in rhythm with
the pulse in Bridgemear’s temple. The two riders approached and
with watchful eyes rode towards the band of mages. Bridgemear
pushed his horse forward.

‘
Welcome
back, keeper of Fortune’s End, you look like you have come from
afar. Please tell us what has happened to you.’

Nekton merely grunted; he
didn’t look well at all and beads of sweat were trickling down his
face.

‘
Sire,’
Amadeus interrupted. ‘My name is Amadeus and I am a messenger sent
by King Gamada.’

‘
I know who
you are,’ said Elveria, his voice thick with contempt, ‘what we
want to know is what you are doing with our keeper.’

‘
My lord, I
was captured whilst staying at Fortune’s End; my attackers lay in
wait for me hidden in the woods. To overpower me they used a magic
spell which made them invisible except for their eyes, for their
pupils shone yellow against the night sky.’

‘
Who was it
who attacked you?’ demanded Bridgemear, furious at the thought of
someone using forbidden magic.

‘
It was King
Forusian, ruler of the Nonhawk; it was his men who came that night
and took us captive.’

‘
Why was it
so important to him to capture you and take the keeper?’ asked
Voleton, trying to contain his surprise.

‘
I believe it
was because I have a message from King Gamada for the wizard
Bridgemear and I have since come to realise King Forusian did not
want the message I hold to reach his ears; as for the keeper, he
was simply a witness to the crime.’

‘
What message
could be so important it would warrant a move against us and with
it the possibility of war?’ asked Mordorma, his horse becoming
restless and snorting in protest.