The Court Magician of Brend: Chapter 13

Tajor’s skinny, elite friend waited for them at the top by the dungeon entrance. He smiled at Heston and said, “We got him.”

Heston gave a curt nod. “Very good.”

Jerryck headed out after the workers with the sacks of debris, away from the dungeons. Heston stopped him with a large hand on his shoulder. He ducked out from under the hand and said, “I need to tell Terrance about the water.”

“After,” Heston said. “I need you to come talk to someone.”

“Who?” Jerryck asked.

“Come.” Heston turned to the reinforced door that led into the dungeons. “Corridors are no place for such discussions.”

Jerryck looked around. The workers were gone. Aside from him, only military men were left. What was wrong with discussing military matters around military men?

The two guards on either side of the heavy door stood at attention while the pursuivant opened it. The skinny elite followed him in without hesitation. Jerryck held back. Heston nudged him through the opening.

“I hate this place,” Jerryck muttered. He avoided the dungeons if at all possible, dreading the times he had to come down to maintain the magic over the place.

Heston didn’t let go of him. “You say that every time you come in.”

The door closed behind them. The guards wouldn’t open it again unless given permission by Heston or the pursuivant. The entry room was round, with several doors leading off. Each door had a small, barred grate at the top for looking through. Most of them were locked.

Heston went through the only one that was open, beckoning Jerryck to follow. The skinny guard stepped in behind them and closed the door. This room wasn’t so bad. It was set up more like an office, where the pursuivant could keep records and do paperwork, and had one of the few doors that lacked a muffling spell. And the dampening spell that kept magic at bay wasn’t so heavy. The rest of the place, Jerryck’s skin practically itched with the weight of it.

“Some of the riots in the city were caused by a magician.” Heston rested his hands on his hips. “A young one. Name of Alessandris. From Shontarra.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Jerryck said. “Magicians take oaths not to do anything that could cause harm.”

“Regardless.” Heston waived that away and gestured to the skinny guard. “I sent Cade and a few others in to dig him out, bring him here.”

“Why would a magician cause riots during a time of crisis?” Jerryck couldn’t quite puzzle that one out.

“I’d hoped you would tell me,” Heston said. “Since you don’t know, I need you to come with me to talk to him. Figure it out.”

Jerryck nodded. He followed Heston and the skinny guard, Cade, back out of the office. One of the other doors was unlocked for them to enter the corridor behind it. The stone floor, walls, and ceiling made everything so stark and gray, one might expect their footsteps to echo. The doors to every room exuded a muffling spell, preventing echoes, keeping whoever was inside from understand anything said outside, unless it was spoken directly through the grate.

Cells. Not rooms. These rooms were called cells. Even though these particular chambers weren’t normally used for holding people. There were used more for dissemination, testing, interrogating… Things of that nature.

Jerryck hunched his shoulders in close. He knew the corridor was wide enough for three men to walk abreast, two guards with a prisoner in between them. That didn’t account for the pressing of the dampening ambience. Combined with the stunted height of the ceiling, he never could shake the feeling that the walls were closing in on him.

A dungeon guard stood outside one of the cell doors. He saluted as they approached. Heston peered through the grate. After a few heartbeats, he stepped back, returned the salute, waited for the guard to drop his, then asked, “Condition?”

“Agitated.” The guard’s tone was clipped, terse. “At first, he yelled a lot. Demanded to know why we brought him to the dungeons and not to the king.”

“Why would he think he should see the king?” Jerryck asked.

“Probably thinks he’s doing the right thing,” Heston said. “Let’s find out.”

Heston pointed to the keyhole, and the guard unlocked it. The general went in first. Cade followed, Jerryck behind him.

Alessandris was a young man, older than fifteen, no older than twenty. He paced back and forth in the cell, three or four steps either direction, even after they entered. His hair was cropped to one side in the latest fashion, his boots were well-worn. He had a jaunty tilt to his head, like a lot of wealthy people from Shontarra, Brend’s sister nation to the south.

“It’s about time you came back.” The young man’s southern accent was so thick, it was almost difficult to understand him. He pointed with his chin to Heston and Jerryck. “Who are these two?”

Heston stepped into Alessandris’ path, forcing him to halt his pacing. “I’m the man you were brought here to talk to.”

“I was brought here to get an audience with king.” Alessandris’ eyes roved over the insignias Heston wore. “If I’d known I was going to be locked in here, I wouldn’t have come so willingly.”

“The king doesn’t grant audiences to people who incite riots,” Heston said.

“I only told people the truth.” Alessandris bounced on the balls of his feet, and raised himself up an inch or two.

“And that is?” Heston still looked down on him.

Alessandris stabbed his chin in Cade’s direction. “I’m sure he told you.”

He settled his eyes on Jerryck again. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else. Heston spoke first. “I want to hear it from you.”

Alessandris pointed at Jerryck, with a finger this time instead of his chin. “Who is that?”

Heston stepped to the side, holding out one arm, partially blocking Jerryck from view. “I’m asking the questions here. What truth did you tell people?”

“If that’s who I think it is—”

“Answer the question!”

Alessandris jumped. Then he blinked. He juggled his shoulders and said, “There’s magic in the water. That’s what’s making people sick. Not some dead animal in a stagnant pool upstream like the proclamation said. Like the king was told.”

“Where would magic like that have come from?”

“From some rogue magician—” Alessandris snorted derisively— “obviously.”

“Bringing no harm to people is part of the magicians’ oaths,” Jerryck reminded him.

“That’s why it would have to be a rogue!” Alessandris leaned past Heston to glare at Jerryck. “And I have my suspicions who would do such a thing.”

“The first person I would suspect is someone who incites riots,” Heston said.

Alessandris’ narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to imply something?”

“Let me state this clearly.” Heston cocked his head. “I would suspect someone who has already caused damage, like riots, before I would suspect anyone such a person accuses.”

“You think I did this?” Alessandris’ eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “I’ve taken the oaths! I can’t do anything that brings this kind of harm.”

“The oaths don’t prevent you from causing damage,” Jerryck said. “They merely make you subject to punishment from the Gathering if you do.”

“Same thing!”

“No,” Heston said. “It’s not.”

Alessandris shut his mouth. His shoulders hunched slightly, something most people did when they acted indignant. In this case, the hair on Jerryck’s arms stood up with the prickle of gathering magic. Alessandris didn’t say anything, no spells cast, not even muttered ones under his breath. It was possible he just wasn’t paying attention. Some magicians had less control than others. Sometimes they gathered magic without knowing it, just as a reaction to their own emotions. It was usually also a symptom of carelessness and lack of control.

Not that any spell he cast was likely do him much good. Most magic wouldn’t work well because of the dampening effect of the charms and magic Jerryck maintained. But that was just ambience. It wasn’t a complete block. Or Tajor would have been adversely affected every time he entered the dungeons.

Alessandris pointed again. “Is that Jerryck?”

“Why?” Heston demanded before Jerryck could respond.

“It is him!” Alessandris shook his pointing finger. “I don’t want him in here. I don’t want him anywhere around me.”

“Why?” Heston repeated.

“I don’t trust him,” Alessandris said. The look in his eyes changed from angry and scornful, to something more akin to an epiphany. His gathered energy dropped. He sucked in his breath and stared at Jerryck. “It was you. You’re the one who did this. You made the magic to poison the water!”

“What!?” Jerryck blurted.

“You’re the only rogue magician I know of!” Alessandris recovered some of his composure. “Who else could it be?”

“Oh, for the sake of an orphan, I did no such thing,” Jerryck said with disgust.

“Go ahead, deny it.” Alessandris flipped his hair back from his forehead with his fingertips and tilted his nose up. “Did you think no one would figure out what you did? You can rest assured, I won’t be the only one.”

Cade, still by the door, cleared his throat. Heston nodded at him. He said to Alessandris, “You promised if I brought you to the palace he would tell us why you think it’s magic in the water.”

“And you promised an audience with the king!” Alessandris sneered.

“Think back on exactly what I said.” Cade smiled. “I implied that there was the possibility of that happening. But first, you should tell us why you think it’s magic.”

Alessandris threw back his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “I’m a healer. I recognize the difference between a biological problem and a magical one. Every person I healed, I had to fight with elemental fire. This is magic.”

“And why are you so sure it was Jerryck?” Cade asked.

“He hasn’t taken the oaths,” Alessandris said, rolling his eyes. “He’s completely untrustworthy. It’s obvious it was him.”

Jerryck opened his mouth to retort. Cade spoke quicker. “And how do you know for certain it’s in the water?”

Alessandris frowned. “Where else would it have come from?”

“If you can’t answer one question with anything but your own bias,” Heston said, “and you can’t answer another at all, why what should we believe anything you’re claiming?”

Alessandris’ face darkened. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“You’re calling me one,” Jerryck said.

“We’re just trying to figure this out,” Cade said. “Is there anything at all, anywhere in existence, that you’ve heard of or thought of, that this could be in besides the water?”

“The water is bad at the same time I’m running across this.” Alessandris waved his hands around in the air. “Are you really stupid enough to think it’s just coincidence?”

“Unless you can specifically pinpoint magic directly in the water and identify it,” Cade said, “it’s possible that it could be coincidental. I’m asking you, please, we would really like you to prove otherwise. It would make it easier for us if you give us proof this was magic in the water.”

Alessandris dropped his hands and shoulders. “I tried, but I need more time. Or someone better with elemental magic.”

“You’d have had more time,” Heston said. “If you had focused on that, instead of starting riots.”

“I didn’t know those people would act that way when I told them what was really wrong,” Alessandris said.

“I might believe you if it only happened once,” Heston said. “You started six riots before we pinned you down.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Alessandris gathered magic around him again. Definitely someone who needed better control. He glared at Jerryck and said, “What are you making that face at me for, you charlatan?”

Jerryck pointed at his own chest. “Me?”

“You shouldn’t look so smug,” Alessandris said. “I hired someone to help me figure out exactly who did this to the water. As soon as we can prove it was you, you’re finished. You’ll never do anything to hurt anyone else ever again.”

“I didn’t poison the water!” Jerryck shouted.

“So what? Even if you didn’t, which I don’t believe, we’re still going to find out who did. And I’m turning that person in to the Gathering as an example of what happens when they let anyone practice without taking the oaths. They’ll have to put a stop to anyone who defies them.” Alessandris jabbed a finger at Jerryck. “Especially you! You’re finished either way! And they’ll be so mad, they won’t stop there, I’m sure. How hard do you think they have to work to trump up charges against every female in your family, make them look like witches, and burn them! And I’ll help. I’ll testify against anyone they ask me to. Just because you deserve it!”

Jerryck’s mouth went dry. If the Gathering had any excuse at all, they absolutely would tighten their grip on him. They would investigate his family. That would lead them to kill his niece. Which would devastate his sister. They wouldn’t have to work to trump up any charges. They wouldn’t need any false witnesses.

Magic gathered again, this time around Jerryck. The dampening spell pressed on him like a weight, sucking the air out of his lungs. Alessandris’ haughty sneer morphed into a look of fear. He must have felt too. He took a step back, nearly putting himself up against the stone wall.

A flicker of magic escaped, slipping through the dampening pressure. Alessandris’ left sleeve ignited with a tiny tongue of flame. He waved it around frantically, fanning it larger, shrieking, “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!”

Heston grabbed Alessandris’ arm and slapped out the flame. Then he leaned his forearm against the young man, pinning him to the wall. “Who did you hire?”

“I can’t tell,” Alessandris said.

“Wrong.” Heston grabbed Alessandris’ throat and squeezed. “Now you can’t tell. Before, you wouldn’t. There’s a difference.”

Alessandris pulled and tugged. He jerked and spasmed. His eyes bulged and rolled with terror. His face went through red, on to violet, before Heston let go. He gasped, going somewhat limp. Heston’s arm pinning into the wall kept him in place.

“You dare!” Alessandris panted. “I’m a magician. I could kill you.”

“The Gathering would kill you,” Jerryck said.

“Self-defense!” Alessandris said.

Heston grabbed his throat again, without squeezing this time. “How are you going to kill me? If you can’t talk, you can’t cast any spells. Your power’s gone. Now, tell me who you hired before I order your tongue cut out.”

“Someone important enough that he lives in Bershent Fortress with the mayor and the district premiere. And if you do anything to me, he’ll make you regret it.”

“Cheber?”

Alessandris gaped. “How did you know his name?”

“Because he works with us a lot,” Heston said. He let go entirely, backing off a step. “He’s the one that led us to you. And his real name is not Cheber.”

“No, no.” Alessandris trembled. “Let me go talk to him. He’ll tell you straight.”

“Cade,” Heston said. “Go tell ‘Cheber’ he’s worth every bit we paid him.”

Cade thumped on the door. The guard in the corridor opened it. Alessandris jumped for it. “About time you let me out.”

Heston plowed one of his big fists into Alessandris’ middle. He dropped to the stone floor, doubled over, holding his stomach. His mouth stood wide open with no sound coming out.

“Cade,” Heston said. “On your way out, tell them we’re ready to remove Alessandris’ tongue.”

“You said…” Alessandris’ voice was gone. He barely spoke above a whisper. His breath came in short, hissing rasps. “You said…”

“I said—” Heston looked down on him— “to tell me before I ordered it. You did. So we’ll give you some painkillers as a reward.”

Cade left. Jerryck tried to follow. He stumbled to the doorway, almost out of the cell. His body was shaking too much to follow Cade any farther. Energy was still gathered around him. He focused on breathing, clearing his mind. Slowly, the pressure from the dampening spell let up incrementally.

As the pressure around him ebbed, it built back up around Alessandris. The young man muttered. The dampening magic bore down, squeezing what little breath he’d regained. He puffed it out in a short exhale.

“There’s a spell in here, canceling out your magic,” Jerryck said. “Or you’d have been as dead as the griffin that killed my parents the moment you threatened my family.”

Heston grabbed Jerryck’s arm and dragged him out into the corridor. The door guard stepped in. Alessandris sobbed once. Then the door was shut, while Heston hustled Jerryck to the entry.

“Why would you say something like that!” Heston spoke through clenched teeth, making him hiss.

“It’s true.” Jerryck opened his hands. His palms were bloodied where he’d dug in his fingernails.

“Never admit weaknesses like that.” Heston jerked on his arm. “And you certainly don’t let a prisoner know why their strength isn’t working!”

As soon as they reached the entry, Jerryck headed for the door to get out. Heston shook his head at the guards manning the door. They weren’t going to let him out. He was trapped down here.

Heston pulled him back into the office. This time, the pursuivant was in there. Heston said, “Mace, we need a moment.”

The pursuivant nodded and left, closing the door, giving them privacy. Heston drew out a hard three-legged stool, one of the only seats in the room. Jerryck sank onto it. Not even the lessening of the pressure from the ambience magic relieved him.

“Take deep breaths.” Heston said. “Let the shaking calm down.”

Jerryck lowered his head, nearly putting his face in his hands. He caught himself at the last moment, staring at his palms. He was going to have to do a bit of healing on them. After he got himself back under control. He tried to draw in good amounts of air. His lungs refused to cooperate. The light from the torches cast deep shadows that seemed to whisper, stroking his greatest fears, despite all his efforts to find relief and hold them at bay.

“If someone would poison an entire river…” Jerryck paused to shudder. “Would they do something else later on?”

“Guaranteed,” Heston said.

“You sound so sure.”

“This was a deliberate act.” Heston paced in a circle around the outer edges of the cramped room. “No one has claimed credit. No one has stated that it was for any kind of political statement, or declaration of war. No one has even refuted the false story about a dead animal contaminating the water with a rare disease. Not credibly.”

Jerryck numbly restated what he understood of Heston’s words. “So this wasn’t to get attention, make a political statement, or start a war.”

“It may have been an attempt to cause strife between Brend and the Chemwanitz Mountains,” Heston said. “That’s speculation. Whoever they are, they’re probably observing our reactions. Where? I don’t know. I found no trail when I went upriver. I may not have been far enough up. Or maybe they’re downriver. Or in Kershet. I’m searching. But I’m having trouble searching out potential magic-users, likely someone underestimated, or not well-known, or new. I need your help.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to start,” Jerryck said.

“Start with your closest contacts,” Heston said. “Tell them you’re looking for someone new with high potential. You’ll get a lot of false leads. It can’t be helped. Bring every one of them to me. I’ll have my men track them down.”

“They’ll want to know why I’m asking.”

“You’ll have to figure out yourself what to tell them.” Heston stopped his pacing and stood in front of Jerryck. “Make it plausible. Have any of your associates ever contacted you with a question like this?”

“A few times,” Jerryck said. “When they were looking for an apprentice.”

“Tell them you’re thinking of taking one on.”

Jerryck dropped his hands between his knees. “The Gathering won’t like me doing that.”

“I’ll let you in on a little inside information,” Heston said. “You’ll need to take one on. Terrance is planning on doing some rearranging in the household after Nita’s next birthday. Everyone in a high enough position will be required to take on an apprentice. That’ll include you. And Terrance won’t care if the Gathering likes it or not.”

“If I ever did take on an apprentice, it would most likely be my nephew Zev.”

“Your colleagues don’t need to know that,” Heston said.

-Visit the author at www.authorrebekaholson.com-
-Edited by Philip Athans-
-Artwork by Rachel Bostwick-