A Spell Misplaced, page 10
part #4 of Gags & Pepper: Protection Agents Series
“Good. Shall I sing as we ride?” Gags asked before laughing. “I joke.”
The two men looked at each other as if Gags had said something stupid rather than funny. They lacked any sense of humor—all the more reason to keep his guard up.
There were no more noises from the rest of the six groups. Gags kept his ears open and kept his eyes constantly moving. If there were boars around, there might be signs of other animals moving out of the boars’ way and spoor to track them.
“Boar sign,” one of the men said.
Gags looked down at the ground and peered at the dung in the center of the lane. It looked suspiciously like the droppings of a human being. The boar spoor that Gags had hunted at Yearsend looked much different, and he couldn’t see any boar tracks as fresh as their fecal discovery.
It was time to invoke a shield. In a hunt, arrows could come from any direction since there might be more men ahead to ambush him. Gags pulled his staff out and slipped the tip inside his boot since he didn’t have a proper attachment for the end.
“Boar!” one of the hunters said, pointing down a track. No prints were evident. He tried to strengthen the back of his shield, hoping it would hold against an arrow. As he entered the path first, he pulled the staff out of his boot and held it like a lance.
An arrow hissed, hitting his back. It wasn’t hard enough to break his skin, but it was all the justification Gags needed to wheel his horse and charge the pair. They both had arrows nocked. Gags charged them, but the men held their ground and fired one after the other, which was a mistake, as far as Gags was concerned.
He used magic to move the arrows away from striking him as he dodged the missiles. The men froze as Gags ran his staff into the shoulder of one of the men. The man was pushed off the back of his horse. The staff began to tilt, and the assassin had to grab the staff embedded in his shoulder to keep from falling and sustaining more damage.
Gags pulled the sword out of his sheath and struck the remaining noble’s bow, breaking it in two. The string held the two broken pieces together, and as the man drew his sword, the bow parts became tangled. Gags laid his sword on the man’s shoulder, very close to his neck.
“What were you ever thinking?” Gags said, trying to do a Lucian impersonation.
“I, I.” The man couldn’t speak as Gags sliced a tiny gash in the man’s neck.
“A little reminder of all the fun I’ve had today,” Gags said. “Off the horse.”
The assassin dismounted, holding onto his neck. Gags used the man’s rope to tie him up and did the same to the other killer after removing his staff from the other assassin’s shoulder. He stuffed the hem of the staff victim’s coat into the wound to help staunch the bleeding. The man had more injuries than the wound, but it wasn’t Gags’s concern. He tied them both to their mounts and the horses to low-hanging branches. Gags decided to stuff the rest of the hem into their mouths.
Gags would leave them there for a while to contemplate their actions. He took one of the other wineskins and proceeded down the track until he spotted fresh boar tracks running across the path.
He hadn’t hunted boar since he left for Atto. It had been fun then, and he wanted to show Browning and West that the king’s captured stud had a stinger.
The boars made a mess of the game trail. At least one of them was very large. Gags continued down the track, but he heard sounds to his right. Not far from Gags, a boar at least his height pawed the ground.
Gags knew that the hubris he borrowed from Lucian might kill him.
The boar charged. It easily broke through twigs and limbs as it built up steam. On it charged. Gags held his staff like a lance and urged the horse on, charging the wild boar.
The boar smashed into the front of the horse, sending Gags and the horse back into the air. The boar now sprouted a single horn, Gag’s staff listing to the side of his head. The beast pawed the ground again, and Gags rose to his feet. The horse was dead, his bow was cracked, and the arrows were strewn all around.
Gags quickly retrieved his bag of bolts and began to toss them at the head of the beast. He hit the beast's eyes, but still, the boar approached slowly before gathering speed. Gags had enough time for one spell.
Motes covered the boar’s head in a heartbeat, and the boar screamed again. The scream was muffled as it came closer to Gags. He could smell the beast’s fetid breath, but everything slowed, and the boar collapsed a few feet from where Gags stood.
It took a moment or two before Gags could breathe again. It was time to cover his tracks as well as he could. After the motes dissipated, he broke off arrow tips and put arrow shafts in the crossbow bolt wounds. No one would know the boar suffocated to death. He left the staff planted in the boar’s head. He rechecked the horse, but it was as dead now as it was before.
Gags took a deep breath and then collapsed to sit on the ground, totally exhausted. He felt almost as dead as the boar as he stared at his kill. Usually, four or more hunters attempted to kill boars at his manor, and those animals were half the size of this one.
He crawled to the wineskin and drank deeply. The wine didn’t do much to help him recover, but Gags needed something to calm his frazzled nerves.
Noises were coming from the west. Gags pulled out his sword, a poor weapon for boar hunting. He was about to drop it and get more bolts when Vincent West and the admiral burst onto the scene.
“We heard squealing!” Vincent said as he stared at Gags’s horse and the dead beast.
“You killed that by yourself?” Admiral West said as he dismounted and examined the kill.
“I did,” Gags said. “I made the mistake of charging with my horse. I shot the beast’s eyes out, but that didn’t stop it. It pawed the ground again and charged. That’s when I struck it with my staff.”
“Like a knight of old,” Vincent said, wonder in his voice.
“I suppose. The horse and I didn’t stop the boar. We went tumbling through the air, but my aim was true.
Gags rose to his feet, but his ankle buckled in pain. “I’m more injured than I thought. When I get in a fight, I ignore pain.” He winced. “But I’m not in a fight any longer,” Gags said, wincing.
More riders crowded into the tiny clearing.
“Where are your escorts?”
There was a mix-up with another boar. I’m afraid the other two are injured. I tied them to their saddles so they wouldn’t get eaten,” Gags said as innocently as he could.
No one would believe him, but he had done more than he felt capable of.
Count Browning came up the track from the other side with one of his team.
“Boars got the other two,” the count said. “This is your doing?”
“A kill and an awful decision to leave them on their own,” Gags said. “They are dead?”
Browning nodded.
Gags struggled to his feet. His body was almost as shaken up as when he hit the trunk in Bashing and fell to the ground.
“We will take care of this,” the admiral said.
“Vincent will take you back to the lodge.”
The admiral ordered one of the others to give up his horse, and Gags retrieved his staff, wiped it on the underbrush, and mounted from the wrong side of the horse while Vincent removed Gags’s saddlebags. Gags wanted to see where the two assassins had perished, but they were removed when Gags reached where he had tied them up.
He looked at the track and found no boar tracks or blood from horses or humans. Browning had lied. Gags knew that meant Browning was his enemy, and it pained Gags to think Miria was currently under the count’s control. Browning had no idea how much leverage he had over Gags.
When Gags reached the lodge, Vincent extolled Gags’s bravery and hunting prowess, even though Gags had said very little on the ride back to the lodge. Carriages were already waiting to take the nobles back to Baxterton after a post-hunt feast.
“I’m not in shape for a feast,” Gags said to Vincent. “Lucian will fix me up. He knows battlefield healing.”
“He does?” Vincent said.
Gags nodded. He let the young man help him into the carriage, taking a bag of food from the feast preparations and two wineskins.
By the time the carriage rolled into Baxterton, Gags felt better than he had any right to. The food provided magical energy, and the wine softened the pain.
He struggled to his room. Lucian opened the adjoining door.
“What happened to you?”
“I escaped death and becoming a meal for a huge wild boar.”
Gags told the story while Lucian applied the painful salve of magical healing.
Chapter Ten
~
R ay handed Gags a message. “You may not like this,” the minder said.
“A royal exhibition? Why wouldn’t I like that?”
“An exhibition is a contest of duels.”
“A tournament!” Lucian said, leaning forward. “We are very good at tournaments.”
Gags turned to Lucian. “Not in Baxterton, especially for you.” Lucian’s best offense was a magical offense.
Lucian furrowed his eyebrows, and then he realized Gags’s meaning and grinned. “Especially for me. Especially in Baxter.”
“Right,” Gags said and then turned to Ray. “They weren’t successful on the hunt, so they want to try again? My question is, why? Are we a threat to the Manxists?”
Ray pursed his lips. “You are a threat to someone,” he said.
“But if I’m to be a stud, why not wait until my wife gives birth?” Gags said. He shuddered inside as he thought of Valerie West as a wife.
Ray shrugged. “I’m not one to get involved in such things.”
As far as Gags was concerned, all nobles, royal or otherwise, were involved.
“There are rules, I am sure. What are they?” Gags said, not seeing a way out of this except by escaping from Baxter, but he couldn’t desert Miria.
“The brackets and the weapons are pre-determined,” Ray said. “There is a fighting ring. You lose two ways, leave the ring, or your blood is the first to fall on the ground.”
“So, all I have to do is step out of the ring, and that ends the fight?” Gags asked.
“In a different country, that might be an option,” Raymond said, “but you would disgrace yourself and be shunned if you did.”
“And my marriage to Valerie?”
“Cancelled immediately,” Ray said, then shook his head. “You’d be given a worse woman to marry, and your stipend will be drastically reduced. Don’t think there is a way to get out of marriage.”
Gags was thinking exactly that, but it wasn’t going to work. “Is there a possibility that others might attack me from outside the ring?” Gags said.
“No one would do that. The penalties are too harsh for a royal exhibition.”
Gags guessed that if someone powerful wanted to do something like that, they would. He had to apply evil wizard characteristics to those who led the factions. It wasn’t the time to leave, anyway. Lucian wouldn’t want to. He was getting too enthralled by Ann Pearton.
“Lucian isn’t requested to participate,” Lord Raymond said.
“It is tomorrow,” Gags said. “What can I do to prepare myself?”
Ray looked at the scratches still healing on Gags’s face. “Heal. Any blood that drips from your body to the ring will disqualify you.”
“And then, what? That isn’t like stepping out on purpose,” Gags said.
Ray nodded. “It might affect your ability to attend other social events until after your marriage.”
“Like the Noble Retreat?” Gags asked.
“That is the next big one. Yes. Your feud with Count Browning is now common knowledge.”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Gags said.
“The count did at the feast you didn’t attend.”
“I was expected to be there when my body was broken?”
Ray examined Gags with his eyes. “Your body doesn’t look broken.”
“It felt like it was. Do you know the collision with the wild boar killed my horse?” Gags said.
“What exactly happened?” Ray said.
Gags told him the entire story, including the attempted assassination.
“How did you evade the arrows?” Ray asked.
“He may look a little bulky, but it is lithe bulk,” Lucian said. “He used magic, if you must know.”
“That isn’t the story being circulated,” Ray said. “The two companions were attacked by boars and eaten because you ran. The story does admit that you slew the wild boar with two lucky shots.”
“Why didn’t they run, too?” Gags asked. “I examined the spot where they disappeared. No blood, no boar tracks. I thought I was out on a limb leaving the assassins alive, but the count had other plans. Browning knows I defeated them.”
“But the boar slammed into your horse?”
“Yes. The boar never touched me, but he came close,” Gags said.
“Do you think you will prevail?” Ray asked.
“If everything is honestly run, I do, just because of my experience, but I don’t think that will happen.”
“Then do your best,” Ray said. “There are plenty of healers available.”
“Including me,” Lucian said with a grin.
“Privately. Nobles aren’t supposed to get their hands dirty touching commoners.”
“Gags isn’t a commoner,” Lucian said.
“True. I will inform the admiral of the true story without the magic. The exhibition will be held between the palace and the Auxiliary starting mid-morning. I suggest you rest.”
“What about armor?” Gags said.
“It is provided and is appropriate for the weapons used,” Raymond said.
“Have you ever fought in an exhibition?” Gags asked.
“Of course not!” Ray said. “Only the best, and I am far from the best. Your boar-slaying performance provided the reason for your invitation. Stay inside the inn today.”
Lord Raymond left, and Gags suggested another breakfast. Lucian watched as Gags tore into another plate of eggs, tomatoes, potatoes, ham, and beefsteak.
“Are you going to stay inside like Ray asked?” Lucian said, plucking a morsel from Gags’s plate from time to time.
Gags nodded. I’ll need another magic healing or two before the exhibition. We need to discuss everything that could go wrong because something will.”
“More than one something,” Lucian said.
~
On the morning of the exhibition, Gags checked his hidden bolts and ensured his boot knife was sharp. He would have those on his person at all times. He didn’t want to use magic if his life wasn’t in danger. They ate breakfast in the inn’s dining room. Gags even switched plates with Lucian in case someone tampered with the food.
Gags went through all the cheating that could happen with Lucian and how he could counter it. He couldn’t prepare for everything, but vigilance was the most important thing.
Lord Raymond escorted them into a carriage, and off they went to the palace. Gags had expected all of Baxterton to show up, but the exhibition was a nobles-only affair. Two or three hundred people were seated in stands circling a wood-framed ring filled with packed soil or sand over the pavement of the courtyard between the palace and the Auxiliary.
There was a refreshment tent and a tent for the participants. Gags intended on spending as little time in the tent as possible and wouldn’t have a drop of refreshments until his matches were over.
There were sixteen participants. Count Browning was not one of them, but surprisingly one of his “dead” assassins stood in line. Gags didn’t know how the count pulled that one off, but Gags figured it was only one of the surprises to come. The first round involved two matches each.
King David had his enclosure between the two tents, and one of his assistants read the rules. They were almost as Ray had described.
To lose, there had to be two instances where a contestant left the ring or one instance when their blood stained the packed sand of the ring.
“You will lose your position or be demoted two ranks if you are eliminated,” King David’s assistant said.
Gags thought that was astonishingly harsh. Gags wasn’t ranked as far as he knew, so he guessed he would be assigned a different fiancée. He had seen them all, and none were appealing.
The rules and the brackets were posted on a board beside the participants’ tent, along with the weapons used in each match.
Gags shrugged. He looked at the spectators and spotted Lucian sitting next to Ann and Lord Pearton. Lucian pumped his fist when Gags caught his eye. Lord Admiral West, his son, Vincent, and Valerie sat on the other side of the ring. Valerie gave Gags a half-hearted wave. He figured she was waving goodbye to him.
It didn’t matter. As long as Gags breathed after the exhibition, he could get to Count Browning’s estate and rescue Miria. It would be better for everyone on his side, whoever that might be, for him to win.
They were dismissed from the field and filed into the participants’ tent. A copy of the bracket posted outside was posted inside. Gags didn’t know his opponent’s name, but he recognized a few of the attendees at Count Browning’s lunch and the admiral’s hunting party. He wondered what these men did to be placed on the list. Most of them didn’t look as confident as they should.
The first match for Gags was a trident and net. He hadn’t used a trident before, but he figured it was like a staff. The net was new to him. He guessed it echoed the maritime side of Baxterton.
Gags looked for an exit but didn’t find one. Healers were sitting by a row of cots. Another surprise. He was stuck inside with his enemies. They weren’t allowed to observe the matches. Gags had to make do with the sounds of the crowd to know who was prevailing. His match was the fifth one.
A competitor strutted arrogantly towards Gags. He was taller than most Baxterians, but Gags was taller and weighed more, although he didn’t think weight would help him with the trident.
“Prepare to get hurt, really hurt,” the man said. He pounded a closed fist into his palm.
“I can do that, too,” Gags said, making the same gesture. “I always wish my opponents good luck, so good luck,” Gags said with a smile.
