The Vlakan King (Book 3) (24 page)

"Nothing unusual there," said Dvorak. "Same Blackthorne we know and love."

"Yes. But I think Wynne is right. He is up to something."

"I'd rather not know what was in his pack. Bits of dead things I shouldn't wonder."

"Well, I am going to walk south for a while to find a high place," said Navir. "Perhaps I will be able to see Taina coming back."

"I'll make lunch. I have a craving for some stew."

"Save some for me. I enjoy your stew."

"No guarantees," said Dvorak. "It might be extra good and then I cannot promise any will be left."

"There will be some left," said Faeya Ryr. "I will see to it."

"Thank you," said Navir. He grinned at Dvorak and trotted away.

"I didn't hear you approach," said Dvorak. He opened his packs and sorted for stew fixings.

"No," said Faeya Ryr. "I haven't aged that much yet. Not too many creaks in my old joints."

"How's Moria?"

"How would you expect? She's miserable but I finally soothed her to sleep. I hope she will sleep awhile but I expect Taina will make enough noise to wake her when she gets the news."

"I think that was why Navir went to see if she was coming - to give her the news before she gets here."

"It was a good idea. I should have thought of that. I see by the smoke from the old cottage's chimney that Blackthorne has returned. Did he say anything?"

"Not a word."

Faeya Ryr watched Dvorak prepare his stew. The man moved with more grace than expected from the girth he carried and he hummed a tune softly while he worked.

"Dvorak, how come you never married?"

"Huh? A fat man like me? What woman would accept such as me?"

"You are a wizard and a fine cook. You are courteous and a good listener. What woman wouldn't want that? Have you ever tried to find a partner in life?"

"I have looked."

"And?"

"You were already taken." He went back to his humming.

"Guess I asked for that," she said, smiling. "I am going to check on Moria and then Gerrand. Give a call if you need help."

"I will."

Dvorak carefully added his stew ingredients, carrots, potatoes, celery and the special seasonings he kept in a weathered pouch around his neck. He was pleased that he didn't jump at the first explosion from Blackthorne's cottage and only his eyelid twitched when the shrill scream knifed through the trees. It was only when the sulfur smell tried to overpower the aroma of his stew did he march up to the cottage and rap on the door.

"Blackthorne! Get rid of that smell! I'm trying to cook and you will make the stew turn."

He heard movement inside and the sound of something heavy dragged across the floor. The bolt began working free and the door opened slightly. Blackthorne's red eyes glared through the opening. His face was blackened and some of his singed hair glowed.

"Dvorak! Why do you disturb me?"

"The smell…the stew." He pointed at the kettle and Blackthorne stared at it for a moment as his thoughts returned to the world at large. He spat out some black bits.

"Oh, all right. Give me another ten minutes and I will dissipate the smell. Better have a bowl for me. A big bowl. Your stew is quite tasty." He slammed the door shut.

Dvorak went back to his cooking and as Blackthorne promised, the air began to freshen. He heard the hooves of a walking horse approached and looked up to see Navir leading Taina's horse back to the stables.

"She will be along in a few minutes. It is hard for her, especially now that Moria grieves too. She is gathering herself to give her daughter comfort."

Dvorak nodded.

The strange noises from Blackthorne's cottage continued for the better part of an hour. Taina returned and entered Moria's cottage. Faeya Ryr returned to her cottage to fetch Gerrand for dinner. Wynne walked out of her door and scowled at Blackthorne's cottage. Navir sat near Dvorak's cook pot and watched the movement of his companions. Dvorak tasted his stew and nodded to Navir. Gerrand and Faeya Ryr came with their bowls and Dvorak served everyone.

Taina came out and got a bowl of stew and went back in the cottage. Wynne picked through the stew to find the pieces she wanted. They ate in silence.

Blackthorne's door opened and he walked briskly to the cook pot and filled a large bowl with stew. He stirred it with his spoon and raised a mouthful to his lips. He blew on it and tasted it, slowly savoring the flavors.

"Ah, Dvorak this hits the spot. What is better than stew on a day like this?"

"You sound pleased," said Wynne. "Are you glad Kerreth is dead?"

"No, no, of course not. I was able to complete a very difficult spell that in time will be very helpful to us. It helped me put Kerreth's death from my mind for a while. I'm sorry no one else was so occupied."

"I've never trusted you," said Wynne.

"Of course you don't," said Blackthorne. "But that doesn't keep you from getting what you want."

"I don't think you have any feelings. You are just a shell; your soul burned away centuries ago."

"All except my heart; you hold that."

Wynne did not answer but looked into his cold eyes.

"I am going to check on Moria and Taina." She walked away.

Dvorak settled himself down on the soft grass. He watched the clouds roll across the sky.

"What do you see Dvorak," said Blackthorne.

"Chaos and tears."

"Wisely spoken old friend. We shall eat ashes before this is over."

One of the guiding principles I set forth for the Mage Council, which later became the Mage Guild and its school was that a practitioner of magic had the responsibility to guide the inexperienced in magic to their potential. This could be as basic as teaching the novice how to avoid hurting themselves to taking them on as an apprentice. In all cases the existence of the novice was to be disclosed to the Mage Council who then could offer training and keep track of magic throughout Landermass. A good idea, but often sidestepped.

From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.

Days came and went and Jarius did not make his move. Davan began to resign himself to the fact that they would not be leaving. The hard work initially drained him but he adjusted to it. However, the mental stress was numbing. He moved a step slower and kept his gaze downward.

Davan's mind was numb the rest of the afternoon. Somehow, he got through the day without any extra lashes. He ate his meager dinner and collapsed on the floor next to Jarius. He drifted in and out of slumber. In the deep night he flight a sharp nudge and Davan was awake and alert. He laid still, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Jarius tugged at his arm and he sat up. They went to the window and looked out. The interior of the stables glowed with faint flickering light. Davan walked around to several of the Men and woke them up, whispering that they should wake the others.

"What's going on?" asked Rerce.

"Shh."

"Tell me or I'll call for the guards," said Rerce.

The man crumpled from the force of Taslot's fist. "He's an informer for Freibane. Foiled a couple escape attempts since I've been here."

"There's a fire in the stable. In the confusion we can escape," said Davan.

"Fire? How did you do that?" He looked at Davan and then to Jarius.

"Must have been lightning," said Jarius.

"It's a clear night," said Taslot, looking sharply at Jarius.

"I won't turn my nose up to good fortune," said another man. "Look! Freibane's Men are running to the stable."

"Our guards are gone," said Davan. "Time to run. Good luck gentlemen. May we meet again under better circumstances."

"Let's go!" said Jarius, pulling at Davan's shirt. They led the men outside where they broke into several groups running away from Freibane's compound. Freibane's men saw the escaped workers and shouted. Some Men ran to horses to ride down the fugitives.

Davan and Jarius headed north toward the road to the sea. They ran for a while then stopped and listened for pursuit. They kept a distance from the road and heard horses moving up and down the road. It was not safe to travel on the road. Freibane's men watched the road north; the boys would need to travel cross-country to the port of Karlsea.

They took stock of their supplies and there was one knife between them and no food or water.

"Well, a good start," said Davan sourly. "We can live in the wilderness for weeks." He kicked a stone watching it tumble across the grass.

"We are free. That should count for something."

"Should have prepared better; we had enough time."

"Hindsight is useful," said Jarius. "But we cannot drink or eat it. You keep the knife for I have my magic. We must travel quickly to get out of the area. I don't know how far north Freibane's men will ride but the farther north we are the better. I can sense water not too far west of us."

"There is a river," said Davan. "I remember seeing it on Brevin's maps."

"Good. We need to get water there. I know how to create vessels to carry it."

"There are places where the road draws near the river; we will have to be wary."

They walked at a forced pace in silence until the river cut through the land before them. They passed herds of sheep but only saw the shepherds from a distance. The land rolled down toward the river and they reached it before they found a secluded place and watched the river for a quarter hour before they moved to the water's edge and filled woven grass container that Jarius constructed and sealed with magic.

"Jarius, can you still sense my father?"

Jarius closed his eyes for several minutes and then opened them, looking at Davan.

"I'm not sure. I don't feel the creature as strongly so perhaps he is human again. However, there are many trails of magic out there right now. I can't read them clearly enough to know if any of our friends are following us, but there is much more magic in the area than I hoped. We best be careful. I feel and undercurrent of great power but I am not threatened by it. Still I am not reassured."

"What do you mean, 'great power'? A single person?"

"I can't tell. It's a very great sorcerer at the least, but it could be a god. I don't remember ever touching such power. It's much more than Gerrand or my mother can tap, perhaps greater than Blackthorne. It's hard to put into words."

"Where should we go?" asked Davan.

"Let's continue to the coast. That was the direction your father had been traveling. Maybe we can find some clue or a lingering magical aspect to follow. We can't go back. There's Freibane south of us and who knows maybe the Wolfen haven't given up on us."

"Wolfen! I had forgotten them."

"Let's hope they've forgotten about us. I think we can walk for two more hours and then find a safe place for the night."

"What about the sorcerer?"

"I don't sense any attack; not really even a probing spell. It seems I just sense the presence; it doesn't seem to be doing anything."

"That's good. I'm ready, let's go."

They walked at a steady pace following the deer trails among the trees within hearing of the road. Any horses on the road would be heard long before they could see the boys who would be hidden by the time the riders passed. For Davan, the realization of the task ahead of them dragged at him. They were lucky to have escaped the labor camp; how would they find his father? What if his father had taken a ship across to Amloth? They could not afford to pay passage on a ship and if anyone would allow them to work for their passage the time necessary to earn their passage would put them so far behind Ian that they might as well give up.

Once Davan had thought he heard a horse and a little later Jarius thought the same thing. Davan held his knife in his hand while he walked; Jarius noticed the knife and nodded in approval. Jarius held his hands out, palms down and closed his eyes. His mouth was moving and his fingertips began to glow with a pale blue light. They moved forward at a measured pace listening to the sounds around them that had all seemingly gained in volume.

They reached a hill among the trees that afforded a view south along the road. They waited several minutes and saw no movement behind them. The road north was partially obscured but what they could see was clear. The trail wound down by a huge tree, its roots spayed out like giant fingers. Davan led the way and jumped over the last root. A man rushed forward and clubbed Davan on the shoulder. Davan dropped the knife and fell to the ground clutching his shoulder. Jarius stood watching. A second walked into the open space patting his club with his hand.

"Jarius! Your magic!"

"You are going back to Freibane," said the man. "No kids are escaping from us."

"Jarius?"

Jarius did not move. Davan tried to get up but the second man swung with his club grazing the already throbbing shoulder. Davan went down and stayed down.

"Looks like this one is scared stiff."

"His hands are blue. What is it?"

"Maybe he does have magic like the other one said."

"Too scared to use it."

"Maybe he started the fire. Freibane will be pleased to get his hands on him." He reached and grabbed Jarius's arm and light burst forth, blue and blinding. The man lay on the dirt, rubbing his eyes. Jarius ran back the way they had come.

"Come back here! It will be harder for you! Watch the other one." One man gave chase and the one regaining his sight picked up his club and stood over Davan.

"Don't give me an excuse to use the club. You'll pay for what your friend did; mark my words. It will be hard labor for you two."

Time passed while Davan lay on the dirt. His mind cleared and he knew his situation. The man leaned again a tree watching Davan. Each time he saw Davan look toward him he patted his club.

"Just stay down there. If you try to get up I will put you down hard."

"Is that a polite thing to say?" said a soft voice.

An old man stood ten paces to the man's right. He held a walking staff but not much else.

"Get a move on, old man. Unless you want to join Freibane's work party, but I don't believe you'd last very long."