A Sorcerer's Rings, page 25
part #4 of Song of Sorcery Series
The sorcerer nodded to Wedo and gave Ricky a smile. They sat down together and in minutes had two floor plans.
“Ask him if he knows how the Botoyans intend on attacking.”
The man didn’t know. Ricky looked at the diagram and began where he thought he might attack. He discussed his ideas with Wedo, who translated Ricky’s thoughts to the Vorrian sorcerer, whose name was Tergo. Soon they had developed a defensive plan with a few contingencies.
Ricky buckled on the wand case with an extra wand sitting beside his black metal one, and he did the same with his sword. Wedo had two wands, as did the young sorcerer, who knew how to use a wand, to Ricky’s surprise.
~~~
Chapter Twenty-Nine
~
T ergo, the young Vorrian sorcerer who had accompanied Greda to their townhouse now led them around to the back door that gained them entrance into the council building. Ricky had to open the lock using a deep-linking spell. They spilled through the open door, and Ricky locked the door back up. Everything had moved so fast that Ricky hadn’t had the opportunity to power-link with Wedo, but he took the time to do it now. He grabbed Wedo’s arm.
This is a mind linking technique the Duterians use. I hope we can link while we are in the building. All you have to do is think of talking to me and use a little will.
Ricky sang the tune that worked for him, and within a few moments, Wedo connected with Ricky without touching.
“Take Tergo and move to your position. I will check the council chambers for sorcerers.”
Just as Tergo and Wedo left him, the door latch jiggled. Ricky tiptoed away from the back entrance and waited. The door opened, and some women carrying baskets walked in the door, chatting amiably in Vorrian. The last one through the door locked it.
Ricky couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they headed to the council conference room and opened the door. The conversation stopped as the women emptied the contents of their baskets, setting out food and drink on a sideboard.
He linked with Wedo to give him a quick report and followed the women to the back of the building. One of the women unlocked the door and had opened it just a little when someone on the other side pushed and then flung the door open. The women screamed and hugged the walls of the little foyer in the back.
Six sorcerers rushed into the room and were about to silence the women when Ricky stepped out to confront them. He couldn’t let the Botoyans murder witnesses to their killing. He drew his sword and his wand.
“Stop! You can leave now,” he said.
“You are alive!” one of the sorcerers said in Parantian.
“You can tell your friends that no one will harm the Council tonight.”
“You are just a boy,” the sorcerer said, and then looked uncertainly at his fellow sorcerers.
“I rose from the dead,” Ricky said. From the Botoyan perspective, he just might have. It would have been easier to fight them, but he didn’t want to put the women in danger, so he sang and spelled sleep to all in the foyer before any of the sorcerers could do anything.
More sorcerers piled through the back door. A fireball whizzed past his face. Ricky could feel the heat of the thing as it slammed into a stone wall. He backed up and slid into a hallway to have a little time to create a deflection shield.
Ricky ground his teeth. Panicking made him forget about the freeze spell. He was about to initiate the resonance when the front door of the building opened up with more sorcerers bounding through. Faced with sorcerers in front and in the back, he had no choice but to fight.
I can’t help you, Wedo said. They know more defensive spells than I. Tergo and I will have to hide.
Ricky couldn’t blame them. Wedo knew spells, but he couldn’t be expected to turn into a warrior in an evening.
Another bolt of flame splashed against Ricky’s shield. He couldn’t wait. He sang the freeze spell and put the sorcerers at his back to sleep. When he reached the others in the front of the buildings, he noticed a fire bolt barely moving towards his former position. Ricky took up a place behind the sorcerers.
When time sped up, the fire bolt continued on, splashing into a wooden stairway.
“You shouldn’t be allowed to play with fire,” Ricky said, as he put those sorcerers to sleep.
He called out Wedo and Tergo to quench the fire, and then walked over to the council conference room and opened the door. The council members now stood up, cowering against a corner.
“Where are your guards?” Ricky asked.
One replied in accented Parantian. “We’ve never needed any, before.”
“That time is over. I need you to secure the sorcerers that I put to sleep.” The council member looked at him dumbfounded. “You need to help me now!”
The Parantian speaker repeated Ricky’s words, and soon drapery drawstrings, belts, and shoelaces secured the sorcerers. Ricky called Wedo to come out and help. Tergo demurred touching his fellow sorcerers.
“This is most of the Guild’s leadership,” the council member said.
Ricky ushered the men out and sang the sleeping spell to make sure the sorcerers were inert and then brought the council in, save for two members who ran out to find guards.
While they waited for guards to show up, King Renako rushed into the building with his own men. He looked down at the sorcerers laid out in a row, each one tied up in their own unique way.
He exclaimed something in Vorrian.
Wedo poked Ricky in the side. “He asked what happened. I think you know more than the council members. You should tell him.”
Ricky stepped forward, retracting the blade of his wand and sheathing his sword. “Your son is involved in this. The sorcerers finally decided to act. They might have moved because I showed up, but you’ll have to ask them.” He told the rest of what had happened, including their abduction and Ricky’s flight from the bottom of the well.
Wedo translated for him as he went, and the council members complained about something that Ricky didn’t understand.
Guards came in with Blink struggling between their arms. Ricky didn’t understand a word he said, but Wedo tried to translate. The little man’s translation didn’t match the volume of Blink’s complaining.
“I left out the cursing. He really didn’t say much else,” Wedo said, shrugging.
The king walked over to Ricky. “Saved my kingdom, just like Dimani?”
“I didn’t need to kill anyone, this time. I was lucky they all fell under my singing spell. If I hadn’t been here, six innocent women would have been killed, not to mention all the council. If these men and women don’t represent the high leadership of the Guild, then I suggest you send sufficient men to arrest them. If you need help, I will assist,” Ricky said.
“They will need help,” Tergo said. “The older members of the Guild aren’t here, and they are all Botoyans.”
“Botoyans?” King Renako asked.
“Another term for the Sun faction. They fomented this uprising. I’m sure other things are happening. I think it is past time I returned to Duteria to see what has happened. Can you take care of the sorcerers when I leave?”
“We might as well get started now. I’ll take care of Vorria; you take care of Duteria,” the king said.
“What is the fastest way to Duteria?” Ricky asked.
“This time of year? There are shifting winds on the ocean between Vorria and Torak. I suggest you travel by coach. I’ll arrange it,” King Renako said. “Be prepared to leave by midday tomorrow. I’ll have papers prepared to give you clearance as a Vorrian emissary to Duteria. That should protect you from King Leon, as long as you don’t travel too openly.”
~
Ricky and Wedo stood in front of their townhouse with bags packed. A coach with six horses in front and four on a string in the back rolled up to their door.
Greda smiled as she disembarked. “I hope you don’t mind carrying another passenger. It was ‘suggested’ by the remaining guild members that I join you in your journey to the rings. There are those who learned of my assistance. Tergo has been allowed to stay, but I was told it would be better if I tarried in Duteria for at least a year before returning,” she said.
“It’s fine with me if it is with Wedo,” Ricky said.
Wedo nodded. “We have to wait for a bit.”
Ricky paced back and forth, wondering what Wedo was waiting for until a cart showed up.
Wedo laughed and greeted the man on the cart as if they were old friends, and Ricky thought they probably were.
“Supplies,” Wedo said. “You can help with these.”
Ricky lifted a heavy box into the coach’s voluminous boot.
“Blade ingots and dimani dark wood,” Wedo said. “Enough to get things going.”
“Then let’s go,” Ricky said.
He climbed into the cab while Wedo explained to the two drivers where they were to go. All Ricky really knew was that they would head north into Naparra and then take the fastest roads to Duteria. The drivers had an idea where to go, but Wedo would help them talk to innkeepers as they drove through Paranty, and Ricky would take over when they reached the Hessilian States where they would change coaches once safely out of King Leon’s domain.
In the afternoon, Greda handed Ricky a portfolio from her voluminous bag. “You should become familiar with your papers,” she said.
Ricky smiled at the woman, but it seemed she was a lifeless shell compared to the person who had exhibited so much life when they first met.
“Wedo, help me with this,” Ricky said as he broke the portfolio’s seal. When he noticed the papers were in Vorrian, he wanted to ask Greda, but after handing over the papers, the woman looked out the window and didn’t say a word.
The first document proclaimed that King Renato appointed Vincent Crabacci to the role of roving ambassador of Vorria. The second provided a draft on the Bank of Vorria, noting that there were branches in Sealio and in Torak, in the amount of one hundred thousand Dimani falcons. Wedo raised an eyebrow at the amount.
“I don’t need the money,” Ricky said. “Perhaps some of that should go to both of you. I’ll put aside the rest for a return to King Renako at the proper time.”
Greda looked over at him with surprise on her face. “The toddler wishes to be magnanimous? I’ll let him do so since I left Vorria with what little I have in the trunk atop the carriage. I admit I was having second thoughts, but now…” She looked a bit more interested in the papers, now.
The third document was in Parantian and was a royal proclamation that Vincent Crabacci in his name or in any other name, was an agent for Vorria, and as a roving ambassador, he had legal immunity in all the countries of Kerrothia.
Ricky looked at Greda. “Is there reciprocal immunity in all the countries on the continent?”
She nodded. “Sometimes big men can be bad little boys. When that happens, they are sent home and not prosecuted. So that document may be enough to save your life if King Leon catches you. If he does, then he will order you out of Paranty. If that happens, we will board a ship from Sealio to Vorria or Hessilia.”
“I can handle that better than death,” Ricky said, “but I think there would be an attempted ‘accident’ along the way.”
“That has been known to happen, as well,” Greda said. “Hendrico Valian is better left out of our conversation.”
The first few days passed without any problems. Greda had stayed to herself, only talking when someone talked to her. Ricky wanted to know more about her story, but she appeared to have withdrawn into herself.
On the third day, they reached the Parantian border. Ricky climbed out of the coach when they stopped at the guard station. He wanted to walk across the border to the Duchy that had some little chance of actually becoming his. The notion of being an actual duke of the land he was about to walk on seemed odd to Ricky. He didn’t feel unique or special, just odd.
The land was somewhat hilly. Ricky walked up to the drivers, chatting with the Vorrian guards, with Wedo doing the interpreting.
“Everyone is Vorrian in the group,” Wedo said. He looked at Ricky. “Except for him. He is Vincent Crabacci, a Parantian living in the Hessilian States.”
“Which state?” an officer said, joining the group.
Wedo looked at Ricky.
“I live in Gruntal,” Ricky said.
“Do you, now? You aren’t a sorcerer? Can you prove you are from Gruntal?” the officer said.
“I can spar with you for a bit. That should show you that I have learned some Gruntalian moves,” Ricky said.
“You have your own blade?”
“I have one that I picked up in Vorria. They told me it is actually a Naparran sword. I can use that.”
The officer grinned. “I will let you pass if you lose gracefully, but not all at once.”
Ricky nodded and pulled out his sword.
“It looks very Vorrian to me,” the officer said, revealing himself not to be a Naparran, Ricky thought.
They cleared a little sparring ring out of a patch of ground on the side of the road. The drivers moved the carriage off the road, still on the Vorrian side, once Wedo told the Vorrian guards what was to happen.
Ricky stood in the brisk wind, just about ready to shiver, when his opponent attacked him without warming up. Ricky had made a face when he backed up as the officer pressed his advance.
Ricky began to loosen up as he defended with parries and blocks. The officer wasn’t bad, and he used a lot of his strength in his swings. The Ricky of two years ago would have been pressed back, but as Ricky put on pounds and height, he had just enough bulk to fend for himself, especially with months of sparring with the Gruntalians in Ring Four between Broomball matches.
He put both hands on his sword and held it upright, slashing down to parry, and then he switched to a similar style that the Gruntalian sorcerers had used on him.
By this time, a few minutes into the match, Ricky had analyzed his opponent's style and major tendencies. That man had a habit of pausing to inhale before he pressed his attack. Ricky wanted to end the match, so just before the man began to exhale, he charged forward, in a series of downward slashes, upward slashes, and finally, he stepped to his side and poked the officer in the side with the tip of his sword.
“Enough,” the man said, backing up and lowering his sword. He pressed his hand to his side but didn’t come away with any blood. “I have fought a Gruntalian before, but he hadn’t mastered their distinctive style like you have. You must have spent your youth with a sword in your hand.”
“I have enough. I’m also a good student,” Ricky said.
“I’m convinced. We have received reports of a Parantian sorcerer who may come up from the South. You don’t handle a sword like any Parantian I have ever known. What is your name? I didn’t read your documents.”
“Vincent Crabacci.”
“Any relation to Saganet Crabacci?”
“He is a distant relative.”
“If it is the same Crabacci that I know, there isn’t a lick of talent in his family. You may proceed. I’ll endorse your Paranty papers.”
Ricky bowed. “I would appreciate that. Each time I’ve traveled to Vorria, I have arrived by ship, so I’m looking forward to touring Naparra. I assume the Duke of Naparra is still the Duke of Applia?”
The officer nodded as he buttoned up his uniform jacket. “He still is. I don’t think the man has been to Naparra in the year I’ve been here. But you’ll be a more objective judge of Naparra as you go.”
Ricky bowed and donned his own coat and jumped up into the coach. The guards on both sides waved to the victor as the coach returned Ricky to the kingdom of Paranty.
~~~
Chapter Thirty
~
R icky looked out the window at a heavy rain as they traveled north. The road was cobbled, shaking the carriage, but Ricky would rather shake than get stuck in the mud. The coach arrived at the first inn. Wedo agreed to accompany the drivers into the stable yard.
The innkeeper stood at the door, watching the coach roll away, and stepped aside to let Ricky and Greda enter the inn.
“You are all Vorrians?”
“Not me,” Ricky said.
“Nor I,” Greda put her hand on Ricky’s elbow and squeezed.
Ricky guessed it was up to him to create some kind of story and it would be most convenient with Greda standing next to him. “My aunt and I have been to Vorria. My servant is seeing to the horses and helping the drivers, who are Vorrian. I would like to give them regular rooms, not servant’s rooms.”
“I have a suite for you and your aunt…” the innkeeper looked hopeful.
“Separate rooms will be sufficient,” Ricky said. The man’s suite would likely cost many times more than the others. “We can eat here. Our next stop will be in the capital of the duchy?”
“Firali is indeed your next stop. The Duke of Naparra is rarely in residence. It has been so for the last two dukes, much to our dismay.”
The state of Naparra interested Ricky. “Perhaps you can tell us more when we dine tonight. I have spent much of my time to the North and would like to hear how things are in Naparra.”
“I will do that if you will tell me why you are coming north from Vorria.”
Ricky nodded. “It seems a fair trade. Can you take us to our rooms?”
“Certainly,” the innkeeper said.
“Are you fending well, my aunt Greda?”
The woman laughed. “A small diversion, don’t you think? Instead of a single Parantian, we are a group of two Parantians, Wedo, and the two drivers.”
“Our coach has a Vorrian seal,” Ricky said. “I don’t think we will fool anyone.”
“Many won’t recognize the seal. It isn’t the royal coat of arms,” Greda said. ,
“Whatever,” Ricky came to his room. “I’m going to wash up and then go to the common room to listen to Naparrans talk about their country.”
