The Archmage Unbound (38 page)

I opened my eyes and looked at Harold,
“All done… for now,” I said.

“That made my skin crawl,” said the big
warrior.

I chuckled at that. “Help me get him
into the tub.” Harold got behind the wizard and put his arms around the man’s
chest and then lifted him up by main force, leaving me to lift his legs and
guide them into the copper bathing tub. “Mind his head, I’m not sure if he can
keep it above the water,” I cautioned.

Surprisingly the fellow sat up on his
own, so we didn’t have to work too hard to keep him from drowning. His mouth
worked and strange sounds came out but I still couldn’t make sense of anything
he said.

Half an hour later we had him back in
the bed and he smelled much better. “How strong a stomach do you have?” I
asked Harold.

He grimaced, “I considered myself strong
stomached before, but I have a feeling I’m not up to whatever it is you have in
mind.”

“I need to drain the pus from his wound
and clean it out.”

“I’ll get Joe to help you. He’s done a
lot of minor doctoring for the soldiers and his belly is as strong as any man’s
I know,” he said.

“That’ll be fine,” I said and twenty
minutes later I had Joe McDaniel beside me instead.

“I’ll just wait out here in case you
need me,” said Harold as he stepped out of the room.

“Find Lisette for me,” I called after
him. “I’ll need more hot water and some towels. After she brings those she
can wait with you… in case we need anything else.” I smiled to myself,
might
as well give them some time to chat.
That pleasant thought was followed by
a sharp pang as I realized I’d not be having any more chances for small talk
with Penny. Gritting my teeth I pushed that thought aside and concentrated on
the task at hand.

I looked into the wounded man’s eyes, “I
know you’re probably still confused, but I need to clean out the wound on your
leg. Do you understand?”

The man nodded and grunted something.
He was half bald and the hair remaining showed some grey already coming in, if
I had to guess I would have judged his age at around forty. I glanced at Joe,
“I need you to keep the towels and water handy to clean up the fluids when I
drain his wound.”

“Don’t you need to heat up a knife
first?” he asked.

“Not my way, just watch. You’ll see an
opening in a minute,” I told him. Closing my eyes I relaxed and then drew my
mind sharply into focus. Working within his leg I created a channel from the
abscess to the surface and then opened a hole in the skin there. Then I began
drawing the small piece of stone outward, following the channel I had created.
As it moved pus began flowing out of the hole and a putrid smell threatened to
break my concentration.

Ignoring the stench I gently eased the
stone out and then helped the rest of the pus and sanguineous fluids to exit
the abscess. When I had finished I left a small opening in the skin so that
the fluids that would collect in the wound afterward could drain as well. His
body would have to heal the infection on its own; I had done as much as I knew
to do at that point.

Opening my eyes I looked at Joe, “I
think that’s it.”

“For such a young man Mordecai you’ve
become far too familiar with wounds like this,” the older man noted.

I nodded in agreement, “I got more
experience than I wanted after the war with Gododdin.” Which was true, even
though we had won we had had plenty of casualties and a lot of those had led to
septic wounds. Unfortunately many had died before I found any books detailing
the best methods for dealing with such injuries.

My prisoner was watching me carefully
and his face held an expression of curiosity. His mouth opened and closed but
only a hoarse croaking sound came out. He kept trying though, and eventually I
made out a single word, “Thanks.”

For some reason his gratitude enraged
me. “Don’t thank me. I may yet kill you for what you’ve done.” Agitated I
stood and left the room. Lisette was waiting outside, still talking with
Harold. “Feed him,” I told her.

Turning to Harold I addressed him
directly. “Keep an eye on him. I’m going to rest for a while. If he attempts
to remove the necklace get everyone out of the room.”

He looked at me strangely, “Do you mind
if I ask why?”

“Because I like you with all your limbs
still attached,” I said brusquely. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” With that
pronouncement I left, I needed some air to clear my head. Hopefully the prisoner
would be better able to talk by the time I returned.

In spite of myself I didn’t return until
much later. After a quick lunch I wound up falling asleep for several hours.
I hadn’t realized how tired I was, but stress and the events of the past day
had prevented me from sleeping much the night before. When I appeared that
evening the sky was already turning dark.

I found Harold still keeping watch in
the room. He seemed glad to see me. “He’s been talking,” he informed me.

“Why didn’t you send for me?”

“I did, but they told me you were
sleeping so I decided it could wait,” he replied.

My nap had improved my mood, so I didn’t
argue the point, “What has he said?”

“I just told him my name,” said the man
lying on the bed.

I ignored him, keeping my eyes on
Harold. After a moment he realized I was waiting on his response. “That’s it,
he volunteered his first name and I told him to keep his mouth shut till you
had time to talk to him.”

I nodded, “You did well. Wait out in
the hall for now. I want to speak to him alone for a while.”

After the burly knight had left I turned
my attention to the man watching me quietly from the bed. “What’s your name?”

“Walter,” he stated simply. I could see
by his face that he had been tempted to mention that he had already told Harold
this, but his better sense had won out.

“And your family name?”

“Thatcher,” he replied. I could see the
aura around him flicker as he lied.

I briefly considered letting him
continue to see what sort of tales he would spin but I didn’t think it would be
very constructive. “Don’t lie to me Walter. It’s a bad way to start our
conversation.”

He gave me a nervous smile, “Sorry, I
had to try.”

“My wife is dead Walter. It’s a miracle
you’re still alive at this point and my sense of humor is non-existent at the
moment,” I said bluntly.

“Why did you heal me?” he asked.

It took every bit of self-control I
still retained to keep from killing him then. “If you don’t tell me your name
things are going to get ugly, and I’ll regret healing you even more than I
already do.”

“Walter Prathion,” he answered.

“That’s a better start,” I told him.
“I’m sure by now you’ve noticed a few things about your situation.”

Walter nodded, “I can’t sense anything.
Is this?” He held up the pendant I had clasped around his neck the day before.

“Yes, that’s the reason you can’t sense
much. It will also restrict your magical ability.”

He frowned, “Where did you get something
like this?”

“I made it last night,” I replied.
Using
my dead wife’s necklace,
I added mentally. I had changed the enchantment to
completely lock the mind it protected away from the world, blocking his magical
senses as well as his power. It was a side effect I had noticed when I first
made this necklace to protect Penny and it was the main reason I had never worn
one of the pendants I created. Now I was exploiting and strengthening that
effect to effectively shackle Walter’s power. I had also replaced the clasp
with one of my explosive iron balls. To avoid causing it to explode with my
tampering I had spoken to the metal in the necklace and the metal in the iron
sphere to convince them to fuse together seamlessly. The end result of my
efforts was a necklace that contained two intertwined enchantments, break
either, or break the circle, and it would explode. Only an archmage would be
able to remove the necklace without breaking it.

“I thought the craft to make things like
this was lost,” he rambled.

I cut his line of reasoning off there.
“I’m not inclined to explain my history or abilities to you at the moment.
Today you will be doing the explaining. The necklace will restrict your
ability to sense or manipulate energy. Given enough time you might be able to
break the barrier it creates around your mind, but if you do so it will be the
last thing you do.”

Walter stared at me with silent eyes.
For a moment I had an odd sensation,
this isn’t the first time he has been
given a deadly ultimatum.
I ignored the thought and continued, “If you
break the enchantment by force, magical or physical, it will kill you. If you
escape, I will break the enchantment, and it will kill you. If you attempt to
unclasp the necklace, it will kill you. If you catch the chain on something by
accident and it is broken, it will kill you.”

Walter closed his eyes in resignation.
“I probably shouldn’t ask, but is there any way to remove the necklace without triggering
this explosion?”

I smiled, “Yes, actually there are two
methods that I know. The best is for me to remove it without disturbing the
enchantment. The other is for someone to sever your head at the neck, allowing
the necklace to fall free without being damaged.”

He brought his hand up to grasp the
silver chain. “You should have killed me,” he said solemnly. There was a look
of ineffable sadness in his eyes. “I’m half tempted to finish myself now.”

I had to work hard to keep my face
smooth. “That’s your choice,” I said, concealing my worry. “Until you decide
to do that… who paid you to kidnap my wife and mother?”

“No one,” he replied. “I wasn’t paid. It
was by order of King Edward… or so his agents told me.”

I had expected as much, though I had
thought it would take longer to get the answer. “Even the King pays his
servants. Surely you didn’t spend weeks skulking about my castle watching me
and preparing for nothing but the glory of serving your monarch,” there was a
bitter tone to my words.

“He has my wife and children.”

I went still and our eyes locked for a
long moment. I had sensed no deception in his reply, but his answer made me
suspicious nonetheless. The only explanation he could give that might deflect
some of the blame was that he was acting under duress, and I couldn’t be
certain he didn’t know some method for hiding his falsehoods. He had already
shown that he knew certain types of magic I was otherwise ignorant of. Finally
I spoke, “That’s an easy answer for you to make.”

He didn’t waver, “I have no other.”

I decided to leave that issue aside for
later. “How long were you observing us here?”

“Almost two months,” he answered
promptly.

“What were your orders, in specific?” I
asked.

Walter hesitated, “If the King discovers
I’ve been taken prisoner, and talked to you… he’ll kill one of my children, or
something worse.”

I leaned in to stare into his eyes, “My wife
and unborn child have joined the ranks of the living dead thanks to your
efforts. Eventually I’ll have to find her and render her corpse to ash to give
her peace. I’m having some difficulty feeling much sympathy for you.”

His eyes widened, “The shiggreth?”

It hadn’t occurred to me that he
wouldn’t have known what happened to his party after he was captured. “They
were ambushed by them in the forest, just a few miles from Lancaster. None of
them escaped alive.”

Walter’s face registered genuine shock,
“I had no idea.”

For some reason his chagrin reminded me
of the night that I had slain the night watchman guarding the royal
warehouses. Of course I hadn’t been kidnapping anyone, but a number of people
had died that night, starting with Jonathan Tucker and eventually culminating
with my father. “That’s what happens when you roll the dice and take risks
with other people’s lives Walter, some of them get hurt,” I said bitterly.

“You didn’t mention your mother,” he
said suddenly. “What happened to Miriam?”

Hearing a complete stranger use her name
like that was a bit of a surprise, until I remembered that he had been
observing us closely for two months.
Ask him who healed Miriam; his answer
should help you understand,
Penny’s words ran through my head. “You healed
her didn’t you?”

He looked down for a moment, “Yes I
did. Ruth… that’s the mercenary who was in charge of our group, Ruth stabbed
her.”

“Why did you bother?”

“I never wanted to do any of this.
Miriam was a gentle soul, I didn’t want to see her hurt, or anyone else in your
family for that matter,” he said softly.

That was when I felt my first pang of
empathy for the man. “What are your children’s names?” I asked on a sudden
whim.

“Elaine, my daughter, is the oldest.
She will be sixteen this year. My boy, George, just turned eleven last month.”