The Wizard from Earth (18 page)

A stormy night finally came again.  Filled with trepidation, Matt found excuses to delay an escape attempt.  Then something happened that ended up derailing his escape plans entirely.   

It happened a few evenings later, when he was coming out of Shaft Four.  He heard a boom and saw a pillar of steam billowing from Shaft Three.  Men staggered from the hole, their clothes sopping.  Most moved as far as they could from the pool that had filled the mine, but one man tied a rope around his waist and dove into the water.  Seconds later, he emerged gasping, but gulped in a lungful of air and dove a second time. 

When he arose again, the lead guard said, "We're due at camp.  We'll drain the shaft tomorrow."

"That's my son!" the diver shouted.

By then a crowd had gathered, and the guards stood by, apparently deciding to let the drama play out.  And it did on the third try, when the diver finally climbed out of the water, sobbing.

Matt then acted without thinking.  If had been thinking, however, he wouldn't have thought that he was being particularly heroic.  For him, this wasn't going to be a big challenge.  If he had thought about his reasons for doing it at all, he might have replied that he was simply doing the right thing, or, if he was expected to be cynical, that it might win the approval of the prisoners and guards alike, and become one more step toward his liberation. 

Before the guards could act, he pushed through the crowd and dove into the pool  The water was utterly dark and filled with fine particles of dirt so that he had to keep his eyes shut anyway.

“Sonar on,” he subvocaled.

Ivan's sensors pinged from Matt's forehead against the walls of the cave.  Though his eyes were closed, Matt saw a three dimensional computer-generated representation of the interior of the shaft.  He swam down the gallery quicker than he could have walked it.  Mindful of the 'health bar' showing that he had three minutes of air, he investigated the side shafts and galleries.

The boy's body was a level down.  He was limp and unmoving and Ivan ascertained that he was unconscious and his lungs were full of water.  Matt was surprised at how small he was and realized he would not have been more than twelve in Earth years.  But there was no time to think about that.  Matt pried off the rocks and freed the body and carried it to the surface. 

When he rested it beside the pool, someone shouted, “He's dead!” and the father wept. 

Matt pulled the shirt off and placed his hand firmly on the boy's chest.  Ivan's microscopic interstitial tentacles went to work. 

The boy convulsed, and out of his mouth and nose flowed water and all the accumulated silt as well.  He blinked and sat up.  The boy's father cried and hugged his son.

Matt stood and looked around.  The prisoners stared stonily.  Then the guards converged and beat him senseless.

21.

Carrot leaned against a cracked plaster wall at the corner of a back street in Londa, wearing a simple white dress that she had taken from a Lowlander's clothesline the day before in exchange for her worldly goods – which, at the time, had been the warrior's clothing she had been wearing.   

Since fleeing the scene of the battle that wasn't, she had spent days foraging off the land.  She had dodged and outrun Roman patrols.  She had risked sentries' arrows to scale the walls of Londa.  But she would do it all over again, she thought, if she could avoid this next step.

Three doors down was her uncle's clothes shop.  It looked more decrepit and much smaller than she remembered from the last time she had stood at the entrance and listened to King Letos accuse his brother Ral of treason.

She drew a breath, walked to the door, and entered.  The interior of the shop was dim but the man tending the counter was unmistakable, though shorter and wider and grayer and balder than she remembered. 

"Uncle – " she said.

He looked at her with a stunned expression for only an instant and then pasted a smile and said loudly, "Oh yes, miss, you've come for your uncle's robes!  Sit in the back room and I'll be with you soon."

He had been making sideline glances while he spoke in the direction of another man inside the shop. Carrot recognized the wine-red fringed robes of the Roman provincial civil service.  The official in turn appreciatively eyed Carrot's figure.  His bodyguard frowned at the wrinkles of her dress and the dust on her sandals, as if they were telling him a story.

After animated bargaining, the men left and her Uncle Ral put out the closed sign, drew the curtains, barred the door, and led her  into a back room.  Hobbling with his cane over to the stove, he measured tea and poured from a simmering pot into a cup before her and sat down.

"Arcadia, you've grown, but I knew you in an instant.  You have your mother's face."

"I – I'm sorry to bother you, Uncle.  I know that relations have been bad within our family – "

"Carrot, relax, I don't hold you responsible for anything that passed between your father and me.  I'm sorry that I didn't contact you before this.  Despite the bad blood between us, I should have attended his funeral."

"We held no funeral."  Holding the cup in both hands, she sipped with care.  "The Romans, they paraded his head and body through the village, then disposed of them in secret, so that they would not become relics of veneration."

Ral nodded slowly.  "I hadn't heard of that.  Only that all the leaders were executed and half of Umbrick was burned to punish the uprising.  But what have you been doing since?"

She set the cup down.  This was going to be a risk, but she was almost certain of her suspicions.

"Fighting in the Leaf."  She looked at him directly.  "The same as you."

He gazed back stonily.  "The Leaf?  Isn't that the gang of hooligans who justify their highway robbery by pretending to lead a secret war against Roman rule?  I have nothing to do with those murderous traitors.”

She leaned forward and whispered,  "Uncle, this is a matter relevant to the Leaf, but if someone is listening, give me a signal and I'll leave now."

"No one is listening," he said in a normal voice.  Then as innocuously as could be, he added,  "So what makes you think that I am a member of the Leaf?"

"Being myself a member of the Leaf for two years now, I saw that the Northland cells are receiving information on the movements of the Romans that is very accurate.  The information must be coming from someone who speaks to the Romans and observes them daily, and who is based in the provincial capital, and who is a merchant whose wares travel into the countryside so that he may dispatch along secret messages."

"Your general description could apply to a score of other merchants in this town.   Why do you suspect me in particular?"

"Do you remember the day my father came here with me?"

His face darkened.  "I couldn't forget if I tried."

"Because you worked so closely with the Romans, he accused you of being a traitor.  I saw how pained your face was, Uncle.  Yet you did not deny his accusations.  If you were pained, then why did you not refute him?  If his accusations were true, then why would you care enough to show pain?  I knew then that you were wearing a mask."

Ral paused, then said, "There are many reasons to wear a mask other than being a spy.  I suspect there is more to your suspicion than that one incident.  Would it happen that your cat's ears eavesdropped on a confidential conversation among the Northern Leaf leaders, in which my name might have been mentioned?  Or did your cat's nose detect my scent on some of the weapons and supplies received in the north?"

“I wish you wouldn't compare me to an animal, Uncle.  It was funny when I was a child, but – “

“I understand.  I think your tea is cooled now.”

Thus prompted, she took a deep sip.  He had added apple cider vinegar and honey, the way she had liked it as a child.  Perhaps, if he so cared for her, he would heed her request. 

He continued,  "The reason I compared you to an animal when you were a child is because you would rankle if I openly referred to your talents.  You get that from your mother. 
Keep your talents hidden
, she was always telling you.  She thought she was protecting you, I know, but she was keeping you from your potential." 

"You're avoiding the subject," she said.  “As soon as you admit you're of the Leaf, I can discuss Leaf business with you.”

He hobbled to the stove and replaced the pot over the flame.  "All right, no use pretending with you, yes, I am in the Leaf.  And so what does that have to do with why you are here?"

"Geth has been captured."

"
What?
"

She told how she and Geth and Croin had joined the Army of the Queen's Rebellion, and how they had been sent to the Westlands beyond the Dark Forest, and how they had met the army on the way back and how all had been chaos from the landing of the fireball in their midst.  She left out mention of the Wizard, because she didn't think it was important or relevant. 

"And then Romans were everywhere, and I lost sight of Geth and the others and they weren't at the rendezvous point and I've searched the Lowlands for days.  I'm sure they were taken prisoner."

"Poor Geth.  He is my friend and was like a father to you.  You know, it was Geth who retrieved your bodies from the river bank. He buried your mother and almost buried you, and when he saw that you were still alive he cared you back to health.  In the meanwhile, my brother would not so much as look."

She closed her eyes and bowed her head.  "Uncle, no more of my father."  She raised her head and opened her eyes.  "I came to plead for the Leaf's aid in saving Geth and Croin, and the other two men who were taken prisoner from my squad."

"Carrot, I have great confidence in your talents, but even with a hundred of our best operatives you can't fight your way through the whole of the Empire in search of particular prisoners of war, and then fight your way out in order to rescue them."

"I wasn't thinking of force and I wasn't asking that anyone else to take risk.  My plan is that I will go by myself to the slave markets of Rome, find Geth and the others, and purchase their freedom.”

“Yes, I see, of course, as prisoners of war they would likely become slaves.  But Carrot, do you even have the funds to – oh, I see now why you've come to me.”

“Uncle, they fought for the freedom of Britan, shouldn't Britan pay them the same obligation?  As we are both members of the Leaf, I know how deeply you care about your fellow warriors."

Ral made a small smile.  "Forgive me another mention, but how a certain person would twist, to hear you refer to his brother the tailor as a warrior!"

"But you are.  Better than Boudica."

"That is no compliment, girl.  You haven't heard, have you?  Rumors are she was an agent of Rome, leading our army into a trap."

"I would believe that."  She didn't want to mention her hysteria while in proximity to Boudica.  It still made no sense.   

Ral was eying her as elder relatives often do toward younger ones who come to visit out of the blue. 

“Back to your business.  So it is that you've come for money.”

She looked at the floor.  "To bid in the slave auctions of Rome, yes.  I know the Leaf has funds, and as someone in such a prominent position within the Leaf you must have access to them."

“Prominent position?  I'm just a humble tailor who writes down the daily gossip and passes it on.”

She arched an eyebrow. 

He sighed.  “I suspect we must, among your other talents, add some dash of mind reading.  But Carrot, the Inner Circle is going to ask why we should spend funds on these men, when so many  thousands have been taken prisoner.”

“Uncle, it's Geth.  That's why.  That's all the reason there needs to be, wouldn't you agree?” 

He sighed again.  Without further comment, he dragged a bookcase away from a wall and lifted a plank underneath.  He presented her with a bag that clinked musically as he jiggled it. 

"I'll catch hell for giving you this much of organization funds without a committee vote, but as you say, it's Geth.  I'll argue that he's of great symbolic value to the Leaf, if nothing else.  People in Umbrick still remember that as your father's chief lieutenant, he was the one who managed village affairs day to day."

She opened the bag and gasped.  "Oh thank you, Uncle!"

"Now, the coinage I have given you will be enough for your journey and to purchase the freedom of all four of your people – but only if you bargain.  Here are some basic tips.  Never believe a Roman when he says that's his final price.  The more he takes insult at the lowness of your offer, the more likely you've overbid.  If he walks away in anger, he'll be back and then the real bidding may begin.  I could spend a day telling all I've learned about Roman business practices while tending this shop, but you get the idea." 

"If Roman commerce is anything like Roman warfare, then I know what to expect."

He wobbled his cane in response.  "I'd go with you, but I'd be in the way.  I know you can take care of yourself – but be careful.  Rome has a dagger in every sleeve, poison in every cup, cunning in every kindness.  Those are lyrics from one of their drinking songs, so the warnings must be true."

"I will be careful, Uncle."

He smiled.  "Perhaps I worry too much.  In truth, we seem to have had good fortune of late.  The army would have been destroyed had that fireball not come at the right time and place – and now also the Plague seems to have run its course."

"It has?"

"As you inferred, I have my communication system.  There hasn't been report of a death in days and those who were sick are fully recovered.  So Britan's curse has been lifted.  Let's hope your quest meets with good fortune as well."

"We make our own luck," Carrot said unsmilingly.

"We somewhat do, but also much luck is handed to us.  May the best luck be handed to you, Carrot.  You deserve the best because of all you've been through, but also because of the fine person that you've always been."

He watched her spill the tea, and when she didn't comment, he said, "You still blame yourself, don't you?"

She had no memories of that day, but she had memories of a thousand haranguings.  "My father said I was too strong willed for my mother, that I pushed her into going to the river that day to gather flowers, that if I been obedient – "

"
Carrot!
"  Ral slammed the table.  "I am so tired of hearing this!  You had nothing to do with her death!  And because of his own foolhardiness in leading a futile uprising, your father is dead!   He's two years in the grave, you need to stop respecting his drunken rantings! "

"He is worthy of my respect, as king and father."

"You're in Londa now.  We don't hold rigidly to tradition, we dare to make use of common sense!  Carrot, Letos was king only because your grandfather was king, and your grandfather was king because he murdered the king before him.  Fine lineage, our family has!  As for the historical accident of his being your father, I am half convinced he married your mother on whim, only because I was courting Prisca first and he wanted to spite me.  It surely didn't stop him from bedding other women.  And once they were married, she became the target of his spite as well.  Impulse and spite – he did everything from impulse and spite!  I know, because I lived in his shadow for years, and so did you.”

Breathlessly, she slowly emitted,  "He was a great man and the villages respected him."

“He is dead and the villages are in ashes.  Good reason to question whether Northlanders are the excellent judges of character they presume to be.” 

She held back tears.  "He was a good man!  He loved me!"

"Love?  Was it love when he shunned you for a year after the attack because your face and body were so horribly scarred?  Was it love when he treated you like a Roman does toward a slave and yelled 'What good are you?' when you so much as dropped a plate?"

"It was treatment I deserved.  I was too strong-willed.  I insisted that my mother come to the river with me to pick flowers – "