The Haunted Wizard - Wiz in Rhym-6 (35 page)

Owoo! Ooo!" And Buckeye went hopping off into the distance until he hit a dip and the ground seemed to swallow him up.

Matt turned back to see Mother Diceabo eyeing him narrowly—but all she said was, "I would appreciate it if all you men would enter our guest house immediately." She nodded to Mama. "I shall explain matters to you, milady, and you may discourse with them."

"Of course," Mama said, then dismounted and waved her hands at the men. "Away with you, now!

Leave civilized people to talk!"

Matt led the way toward the building she indicated, growling, "So men aren't civilized?"

"Not according to women," Papa replied. "They have a point, son. Think about the lives most men would lead if they had a clear choice."

Matt thought about that as they entered the guest house.

Mother Diceabo was right behind them, already talking with Mama. They kept on talking as they sat around a plain plank table on hard wooden benches, though the abbess brought them a pitcher of mild ale and wooden mugs with her own hands.

"So the Prince Gaheris is murdered, and Prince Brion slain in battle," she said, "while the poor queen is jailed in a silken prison—and the king lies elf-shot, unable to speak to any but Prince John! Can you have any doubt who is behind it all?"

"When you put it that way, it does look pretty bad for him," Matt admitted. "Trouble is, there're a lot of other things going on in the kingdom."

Page 178

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Indeed?" The abbess fixed him with a penetrating stare. "What sort of things?"

"The barons and their men have lost respect for the clergy," Mama told her. "The farther north we came, the less the friars could protect their folk from the ravages of their own lords."

"Say you so?" The abbess' stare swung to her. "Have they lost all thought of God and goodness?"

"They have," Matt told her, "because a very powerful sorcerer has cobbled together a parody of the Druid cult and is spreading it throughout the land."

The abbess' stare swiveled back to him, appalled. "How can this be?"

"Yes," Mama said, staring with Papa. "How can it?"

"Because his apprentice synthodruids are leading the people in wild, drunken parties disguised as worship services," Matt said, avoiding the abbess' eyes, "with all the, ah, vices that go with drink and wildness."

"You cannot mean—" The abbess broke off, shaking her head. "Can the land have sunk so low?"

"If it sinks any more, the sea will come rushing in between Bretanglia and Merovence," Matt said grimly.

"And Prince John is leagued with this self-styled Chief Druid," Sir Orizhan told her.

"Is he!" The abbess turned her stare on him. "Did I not say the whole coil was of his making?" Well, she hadn't quite come right out and said it. "I think Prince John might be more of a victim," Matt demurred, "one more person lured in by the lies of the sorcerer, lies that he's scattering over the land like seeds broadcast."

"How can he do that?" the abbess demanded.

"Minstrels are abroad, singing a song that impugns the queen's reputation and claims that Brion was illegitimate," Mama said.

Matt turned to her, surprised, though he realized he shouldn't be. He'd heard the song twice himself; surely his parents had, too.

"A vile slander!" the abbess cried. "All know she has been a model of virtue since she married Drustan!"

"Since then, yes," Papa agreed, "but there seems to be some doubt about her standards before—and therefore after."

"Aye, to those of foul minds! Why, Brion is the very image of his father, though one much purified! If any should be suspect in parentage, it should be John!"

"Shh! Not so loud!" Matt gave a quick scan of the windows and rafters.

"Aye," Papa agreed. "The sorcerer has sent ravens abroad as spies, throughout the countryside."
Page 179

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

The abbess' eyes narrowed. "Carrion eaters were ever birds of ill omen!"

"If they hear anybody talking against John, they bear word to the soldiers somehow," Matt said, "and the soldiers come to arrest the poor talker."

Dolan shuddered, drawing the abbess' eye. "Were you one such?" she asked. Dolan nodded.

"Poor lad!" she said. "He lamed you for it. What else?" Dolan opened his mouth and cawed in answer.

The abbess turned away with a shiver. "There is evil in the land indeed!" She turned to Mama and Papa.

"But why come you here, to the House of St. Ursula?"

"Good question," Matt agreed. "I thought you two were staying in Bordestang to defend Alisande and your grandchild."

"The war in Bretanglia made your wife see that the threat to Merovence was ended, at least for the time being," Papa said. "We offered to go north to learn more of what passed there." Matt sighed. "So much for my plot to keep you home and safe." Papa answered with a wolfish grin.

"Why here?" the abbess pressed.

Mama shrugged. "We have gone north by the byways, my lady abbess, to visit the small towns and villages and learn what the people say. When the hunters caught our scent, we fled, and I felt that safety lay in this direction."

"Our patron saint spoke to your soul," the abbess told her. "You must be devout, or your spirit would not have hearkened to the warning. What did you do to catch the hunters' interest?" Mama and Papa exchanged a blank look. Then Mama told the abbess, "We saved a village lass from soldiers long enough for the friar to come and chase them away. Later, we saved a goldsmith's last ounces from a greedy baron, and healed the friar who had tried to protect him and was beaten for his pains."

"Reason enough!" the abbess said, shaken. "How is it this baron dared strike a man of the cloth?"

"He claimed he had become a follower of the druids and their old gods," Papa said, "and therefore no longer feared the Church."

"This has become far worse than I thought! How could so much evil have run through the land and I not know of it? We give hospitality to so many travelers!"

"This has happened in only a few weeks' time," Mama told her.

"Then it is well planned indeed! Perhaps it is not Prince John's work after all." She turned to Matt. "How
Page 180

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

did you attract the hunters' notice?"

"Well, I think mostly by saving a priest from a synthodruid," Matt said, "then busting up the druid's recruiting ceremony, and protecting him by magic until he could make it back to the church to confess. He's still there, in sanctuary—I hope."

The abbess stared at him for a moment. Then she said, "Yes, I mink that might have attracted their attention. What sent you in my direction?"

"The friar I saved from the synthodruid. I asked him how to fight them, and he told me to ask you." The abbess stared even wider, then turned away, shaken. "I? What could I know of battle? Prayer I know, and austerity, and the ordering of a convent—but what use is that against a lie so huge that many of the liars themselves do not know it for the falsehood it is?" Matt bowed his head, clenching his fists, hopes dashed. Sir Orizhan stared at him in dismay. But Mama had seen this mood before. Her gaze lingered on her son a moment; then she turned back to the abbess and said, "Have you no stories of saints who contended with the original druids?"

"We have," the abbess said slowly, "but they saw people suffering from the constant wars the druids thought pleased their gods, and showed the folk how their yearning for peace was a yearning for God. Is there such a yearning again?"

"It has begun," Mama told her, "or we would have had no one to rescue."

"Indeed." The abbess gazed at her, musing. "Have you told me all of what you heard on your way north, or was there more?"

Mama frowned, thinking. "The women are afraid for Princess Rosamund, who was imprisoned near the king's castle at Woodstock but disappeared."

"Well they might be!"

"They pity the queen, who fought a war with the king for her son Brion's right to inherit, and has been imprisoned for her pains—"

"Of this I have heard."

"—and there is a rumor abroad, that Prince Brion is not really dead, but only lying in an enchanted sleep like Arthur's, in the cathedral at Glastonbury."

"There is hope in that," the abbess said quickly, "though I would not spread the word abroad if you cannot prove it true."

"Then we must go to Glastonbury and look," Mama said decisively.

"No, not Glastonbury." Finally the abbess sat with them, hands clasped, looking off into the distance, as though she could see through the walls and all the way to the holy town herself. "That has the ring of peasants trying to keep hope alive, especially since Glastonbury is the only place of holiness great enough to withstand the onslaught of such concerted blasphemy that is also close enough for the poor folk to
Page 181

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

believe in it."

"But you don't think it's holy enough to hold out?" Matt felt hope returning, if only because the abbess was taking the rumor seriously.

"To hold out against a sorcerer and these sin-tho-druids of yours? Yes, it is that—but no holiness is great enough to withstand a troop of blaspheming knights who lust for greed and power. If they came in force to discover a sleeping prince and slay him for once and for all, no cloisterful of monks and nuns could stop them. No, if the prince's body has been borne away for protection, it would not be within Bretanglia."

"Merovence?" Matt stared in disbelief.

"No, nor in any place where knights could ride," the abbess said impatiently. "Whoever bore his body away would have taken it across the sea…" She turned to Matt suddenly, her gaze focusing. "The Irish Sea! They would have taken him to Erin, to the Isle of Doctors and Saints! There would be holiness enough to ward off any sorcerer, and seawater enough to delay any troop of knights, especially if they feared a wizard's power to bring a storm to overturn their ships! So even if there were truth in the rumor, neither John nor his sorcerer would concern themselves with it, for a sleeping Brion far from the shores of Bretanglia would be no threat to them—at least until they had consolidated their power."

"Yes," Matt said heavily. "First things first. Get the country securely under your thumb, then send an expedition to kill the rightful heir for once and for all. Sure, it makes perfect sense."

"The notion doesn't seem to delight you, son," his father said, frowning.

"It doesn't, Papa—because if there's one place where there might be a few genuine druids still holding on, it's Ireland."

"In the hills in the interior of the island?" Mama frowned, nodding. "Perhaps so. And you fear they could see this wave of synthodruids as an opportunity to revive their true religion?"

"It does sound like a great opportunity," Matt said, "and their last. Let the sorcerer take over Bretanglia, then come riding in and steal his conquest away from him—because if the people are worshiping the old gods and following the druids, of course they'll drop the synthos and turn to the real druids." Sergeant Brock stared, amazed.

"The sorcerer would not give up so easily," Papa objected.

"Perhaps, but the contest would be worth the chance," the abbess admitted. "Still, that would give them all the more reason to protect Brion in enchanted sleep—so that they could present a true heir to enforce their claim."

"Brion would not let himself be used so," Sir Orizhan objected. "He might fight for the True Faith, but not for the power-lust of the old."

"With a kingdom to gain, and a true version of the old faith to drive out a cynical imitation?" Papa challenged.

"Not even then!"

Page 182

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"It matters not," the abbess told them. "A rumor of Brion will have as much force to raise resistance as Brion himself. Lord Wizard, you must go to Erin and seek his body. If you find there is no truth in the rumor, we must find some other way to fight these charlatans."

"And if I find out the prince really is still alive, preserved by magic?"

"Then you must wake him," the abbess said with iron resolution. She turned to Mama and Papa. "But there is some slight chance that he might be in Glastonbury. You must go there, and make sure of that rumor."

Sir Orizhan stood up, tightening his sword belt. "Then let us go quickly, before the hunters return."

"Who shall protect the convent, then?" Mama objected.

"By your leave, my lady, if we are gone, I do not think the hunters' hounds will lead them here."

"Then it isn't going to be safe for you!" Matt objected.

"Do not fear, my son." Mama smiled at him with a look that bordered on the bloodthirsty. "Now that we know the nature of our enemies, I mink your father's magic and my own knack of binding enemies' spells against them will serve to send them packing."

"If you say so," Matt said with trepidation. Then he turned to the abbess. "I could at least ask my companions to stay, in case you need to fight off the hunters." Sir Orizhan and Sergeant Brock glared at him.

"Men, and men of war, in a convent for more than one night?" the abbess protested. "Surely not!" Matt turned to Dolan with an idea dawning. "Then let me leave you one poor beggar. I think he might be more of a help than you think."

Dolan stared up at him in bewilderment.

"A beggar will be no threat to my daughters," the abbess said slowly. "Surely we shall care for him until the land is peaceful enough for him to go his way in safety, Lord Wizard—but I cannot see what use he may be against men of war."

"Oh, he has a hidden strength," Matt assured her, "relatively speaking." The road led away from the convent, across the plain to a forest, where the road forked. Parents and son exchanged quick embraces at the crossroads. Mama held him at arm's length, frowning. "You know I am not happy about letting you sally off without the two of us to strengthen you."