With Sebastian laying in the wagon bed and Maybell harnessed, they returned to the road. The rough trackway caused Sebastian to whimper in his unconscious state. Eldrick glanced worriedly at his paramour.
“There’s nothing we can do until we get him to a safe place. Right now, that’s Herigberg. We should make it by nightfall. I know you're concerned about him; I am too. That wound is more extensive than it should be. He reacted well to the incident, but... wasn't cautious enough. I could have handled it. His youth and brashness got the better of him. Youngsters are all the same. You think you're invincible and nothing can harm you. You'd think he would have learned from his encounter with the moose,” droned Sergei.
Reaching the worn-down gates of Herigberg they noticed a pair of rundown-looking guards. Their wrinkled uniforms sported stains from numerous meals and spilled drinks. Their boots were scuffed and, in such disrepair, as to denote the abuse to which they suffered. Both guardsmen sported scruffy, unkempt beards, displaying the remnants of their noon meal. Their bored, uncaring expressions showed a lack of respect for their post. As Sergei and Eldrick approached with prisoners in tow, they were not impressed with the guard's shabby appearance. The gates appeared not to have been maintained in the ten years since Sergei had been here last.
“Look alive men,” Sergei called out as the wagon trundled up. “Is this how you represent King and Country? What's happened that you have no care for yourselves or your post?”
“What’s it to you, old man,” returned the one on the right. “You have no right to chastise a loyal royal guardsman in such a disdainful manner.” Spitting on the ground, he grinned at his companion.
“If you open your blasted eyes you would know,” he snarled back. “I'm master druid Sergei on my way to the conclave.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to speak to us in that manner,” the second guard growled. “We should arrest you and confiscate your goods for the insult.” Looking over at his partner, who nodded his head. “We shall just for the insult.”
Drawing their swords, they began approaching the wagon. Sergei, having had enough of their insolence stood up, the majesty of his station surrounded him. Reaching behind, he grabbed his walking stick, concealed as part of the railing. He thrust it into the wagon deck between his feet with a resounding boom like a violent thunderclap, which brought the attention of everyone in the street. Some stopped to stare with their mouths agape, and others gathered children and ran. The noise drew the attention of the local constabulary, who rushed to investigate. Seeing an old man standing his ground with the guardsmen approaching, they stopped to see where this went. Those were men with the King's authority to deal with rabble-rousers. It was currently out of their jurisdiction. Glancing over the entire scene, they reconsidered their course of action. Standing behind the wagon were two members of a notorious brigand band. Their stunned looks betrayed the situation. The brigands stood stock still as if under compulsion. This is a serious problem for the two fools approaching the old man.
“Hold!” bellowed one of the constables. “Fred, Jonas! You are about to make a terrible mistake. That... is no ordinary old man. I would heed what he has to say.”
Disregarding the warning they continued forward sneering at the old man. The constable turning to a fellow officer ordered him to fetch the guard captain and vizier. Realizing the old man was Master Druid Sergei, he continued trying to resolve the issue without bloodshed, or at least delay the inevitable until calmer minds arrived. Having known the druid personally, he understood nothing would stop Sergei when he chose to take action. Sergei was a formidable opponent. The two hotheads were underestimating him because of his age. They may be the best swordsmen in the guard, but they felt entitled and above reproach due to the accolades from His Majesty; so, the rumours said. Sergei looked down at them from the deck of the wagon and snorted. A sneer of derision crossed his face for their lack of manners. Paul had tried to warn them. It appeared to him that the royal guard had decayed into brigands of a different ilk.
Gathering his energies, Sergei, set a wall of brambles between the gate and Maybell. The two guardsmen fell upon it slicing through the thick thorny vines as though they were paper. Though they appeared unkempt, their blades were razor-sharp. It seemed every moment they were not on duty was spent caring for the edges of their blades. Eldrick sat quietly on the edge of the bench, hoping not to be noticed.
“My, my look at what we have here. A little plaything." Fred licked his lips. "Once we deal with your old man, we shall prevail ourselves upon your young flesh. I haven’t had a good romp in ages. What about you Jonas?”
“Mmmmm, fresh, young, and timid, no bad habits to be trained out of him unless the old man has had his way. We could share him nicely Fred.”
“Gentlemen, if you would send word to the palace, this misunderstanding could be cleared away in moments. My apprentice and I are on our way to the druid conclave. King Daividh and I are old friends. I have a warrant for safe passage through his lands. I am obligated to point out legal code violations. If you look, you will see I have two men to face the magistrate's justice. Should I release their bonds and order them to defend me they would do so to their death. They and four others tried to rob us this morning and as you can see were not successful. Now let us pass.”
“He thinks to frighten us, the king himself decorated us, no one could touch us with their blades. Together we're an army. You are an old windbag who has seen his last day. We are going to kill you and ride that sweet little thing until we tire of the game.”
Eldrick no longer afraid of being noticed decided it was his duty to protect his master. Behind him defenceless in the back of the wagon was his soulmate. They would likely kill and skin him like the wild cat he appeared to be if they got the opportunity. Running through the catalogue of memorized spells Sergei and Sebastian made him learn by rote, he remembered a unique spell good for building a solid stone wall around someone or something. Magical energies could pass through, but physical force was stopped on contact. He only had enough time to cast it once. He decided the wagon and the two bandits was his best option. They were currently under the protection of his master until they were turned over to the local constabulary. These two slavish sluggards didn't count.
With small, precise motions, Eldrick etched the sigils then began the incantation under his breath. He feared being heard and stopped. Eldrick completed the spell as the two morons were almost at the point of the outer limit. Fred and Jonas slammed into the barrier; their blades shattered like glass sending shards flying. The sound of the shrapnel falling on the stones, embedding into the nearby trees, and sinking into flesh was a cacophony of noise.
The screams of pain were cut off by one word from Sergei. The guards stood transfixed with their mouths agape in silent effigy of the screams that had reverberated a moment ago. Even the blood oozing from their wounds had stopped flowing as if it were afraid to upset the old man. Behind them, the two brigands had fallen on their knees in supplication hoping to be spared a similar fate. Everything hung in the air like ice crystals forming on a windowpane in the dead of winter. It seemed the affected area was contained from the barrier to four feet away, the distance the bits of broken swords had flown. Everything hung in suspended animation for an indeterminate length of time, or so it seemed when six men came riding down the road and out the gate. Five of the men wore similar uniforms to the two who had attempted to assault them. The sixth however was dressed in fine velvets and brocade, a style Eldrick had never seen before. The jacket was a rich ruby red, the trousers seemed to be made of cloth of gold from the way they shimmered, the boots were immaculately polished, and the tunic had a shimmering texture which could only have come from a far-off exotic land. Dismounting he approached, noting the shards of metal hanging in the air, with a gesture to those behind him to be prepared for when the spell dropped. With another wave of his hands, time returned, and the screams once again pierced the air. The metallic debris fell to the ground all momentum negated. Walking up to the wagon he extended his hand when he ran into Eldrick's wall. The stunned look on his face made Eldrick want to chuckle. Realizing this man meant no harm to him or his master, he dropped the spell. Releasing the spell was harder than erecting it had been, once it was down, he felt drained.
“Sergei my old friend, it has been a decade or more since you graced us with your presence. How have things been?" His eyes slid over to Eldrick, "I see you found yourself a new apprentice as you said you were hoping to do the last time you passed through.” He signaled the guards to remove the offal from the pathway.
“Victor, I am glad to see you still kicking. How are the wife and kids? Little Gemma must be going on sixteen, right?" Sergei pumped the offered hand. "Have you found her a good match yet? I know you dote on your children and wouldn’t force any to do something they were not ready for." Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he turned his gaze to the wagon. "I am travelling with my apprentice and a friend to the druid conclave in Mericach. Our friend took a serious injury defending us earlier. Is Amarna still practicing?" He looked around the area. "If so, I need to speak with her as soon as possible. Also, where is Martin? I have brigands to turn over to his care. These are all that remain of the original band of six.”
“I think you have more problems than you are aware if that is your young apprentice," he gestured towards Eldrick's barely conscious body. "It seems you've neglected one vital lesson about working magic. It looks like he drained himself and will need at least two days to recover.”
“I know,” Sergei chuckled. “I was waiting to see him cast his first spell to see how he would handle his energies. You cannot teach someone anything until they are ready to learn it. I had lectured him on the use of magic and its side effects, but you know teenage boys.” Pausing for meaning, he shrugged.
“Oh, that I do. Invulnerable to the bitter end,” Victor replied with a wry chuckle. “I remember those days all too well. I believe it was a certain old man who set me straight with a small show of patience and versisitude. I chose not to follow the path you had planned for me, but yet still learned the same lessons," his lips tightened as he shook his head. "I see Jericho didn’t last long, but then he was getting old when you released me from my apprenticeship instead of taking me to the conclave." Pointing at Eldrick, "Are you sure he is ready to deal with Veldar? He has gotten worse since the last conclave fifteen years ago. He is becoming more power-hungry, that, and he has started a cult in Kaligorn. The Queen there dotes on him and hangs on his every word. The old bird is no longer looking her age but that of a girl just entering her prime. I think there is some form of sorcery going on there, but no one can get in to find out." He scratched his forehead, "Only a small handful of master druids are allowed in and once they leave, they have changed, and not in a good way. They all seem to have slavish reverence for Veldar. Garven was the last one to enter to discover what he could. He never trusted Veldar much but followed the mandates of the order because he believed in them. When he returned to Herigberg, he declined an audience with his majesty claiming to be suffering some rare ailment but had the treatment for it and was no longer contagious. You know he would call upon Amarna if he so much as got a sniffle, now he avoided her," he paused to catch his breath, stroking his beard. "Come we shouldn’t keep jawing out here in the street, you need to get your party someplace secure, and I know just the place.” With a backward glance to the men picking up the remains, he said, “Though they were honoured members of the king's guard, they broke the law when they attacked a master druid on his way to the conclave with a warrant of safe passage, therefore they are to be buried in unmarked graves in the prison graveyard.” The men nodded.
Passing through the gates, Victor signalled to Paul, asking him to mind the gates until replacements arrived. Paul nodded as he accepted the post, he seemed to be the only person available.
“I never would have thought Fred and Jonas would have become so slovenly and uncaring. I think their pride started sliding away when they were transferred from the castle gates to the city gates. It's a routine phase of the circuit so there could be no accusations of favouritism in the ranks. What exactly happened to cause them to draw weapons on you?”
“Well, I guess they didn’t like me taking them to task for their appearance, after all, they were supposed to be representations of their King. They demanded to know who I thought I was to question them. When I informed them of my status, they decided to arrest us and confiscate our gear. Paul tried to warn them. I tried using magic dissuasively. They just hacked through it. When they noticed Eldrick, they mentioned he would make a good plaything. I think he took umbrage with their suggestion. I didn’t know he was capable of the spell he cast. A very effective use of magic and he did it very subtly. I didn’t even notice he was casting until the spell was complete. He chose to protect not attack, a wise choice however misguided. I was going to simply speak with you or Charles about their actions, not kill them. They forced the issue and well... You saw the results.”
“Just how powerful is he have? I mean that was a spell I have never heard of in all my studies. I have gathered quite the library of magical works. Unless it comes from some other magical discipline, I should have heard of it.”
“Victor, my library is very extensive and has been collected by my family for many generations. I think it was a spell either discovered or created by my great grandfather. Most of the library is family only. Our injured companion is my distant cousin. He has access to some texts which I do not. The difference is that my library has been passed down from generation to generation. There is a geas upon it which doesn't permit those in direct lineage to pass it on to anyone outside of the family.”
As they were passing the jailhouse and the magistrate's office the two bandits wheeled off to turn themselves in. Now that he was done with them he let his attention return to the conversation at hand. With his attention split, he realized he had missed something.
“Victor, Victor, hold on a second what was that you were just saying? Cat what cat?” questioned Sergei confusedly.
“I was asking how you could be related to a cat; the only injured member of your party I see is the cat laying in the bed of the wagon. I mean, I know you consider all wildlife to be family, or at least have some sort of connection.”
“My cousin has discovered some magic even I have no way to understand. He can shape change, a very rare ability. He used it to take out two of the six brigands unfortunately it cost him a knife in the shoulder. The wound is beyond my considerable skill. I have done what I can for him, now he needs to be seen by Amarna. Eldrick should probably see her too. Oh, and I wouldn’t suggest separating them. Trust me on this one. I think either one of them would be capable of destroying the city to find the other.”
“That is a rather daunting prospect. And you think with that kind of power he should be safe from Veldar? For his sake, I hope you are right.”
They passed through the city streets, a tortuous venture since the road was filled with offal in places. Every so often they would see the street sweepers cleaning up the refuse. Thankful that Sebastian was not coherent for the first time in days. The stench would likely send him reeling, as it was Sergei was beginning to have difficulty breathing because of it. The buildings showed wear and in some places disrepair. It appeared as if everyone in the city had quit caring for their homes. When they passed the merchant square the buildings showed better care. This side seemed to the homes and shops of the more affluent. They showed more ornamentation and finer craftsmanship. With the increased wealth shown on the buildings so to did the people display their wealth. Fine linens and brocades. Even the servants in their plain clothing were better dressed than the people on the other side of the square.
The streets here were completely clean of refuse, the cobblestone roadway in good repair, the raised walks swept clean. The sound of hooves on cobbles echoing off the buildings, giving ample warning to pedestrian traffic in the streets. The sight of an old man on a wagon with an unconscious youth seated beside him escorted by the vizier and royal guards caught the eye of passersby. Such a sight was unheard of.
Snippets of conversation could be heard as they passed by. “…who could that…” “…looks like some….” Of course, no one wished to get close to find out what was going on.
As they navigated the twists and turns of the city streets, the homes became larger and more ornate the closer they came to the castle. The edifice took three blocks and stood four stories tall the pinnacle towers reaching six stories. The stones were set so precisely there wasn’t enough space to pass a sheet of paper between. No mortar was used in the entire cyclopean structure, which had stood for six hundred years.
“Vizier, welcome back. I hope everything was settled satisfactorily,” the guard on the right-hand side of the gatehouse said, as he snapped to rigid attention; with perfect precision, his partner did the same. The difference came in the condition of the uniform a sharp contrast to Fred and Jonas' sharp creases, boots polished to a reflective shine, the guardsmen clean-shaven and well-groomed.
“As well as can be expected. We are now short two guardsmen from brashness. I need someone to summon Armana to the guestrooms posthaste.”
Eldrick in his semi-coherent condition barely catching what was going on around him.
The guard nodding, left his post to find the healer at a quick trot. Passing through the gate was like entering a tunnel, the passage from one side of the wall to the other was about five meters distance. The ceiling, filled with murder holes, set about two feet apart and staggered across the entire length in a diamond-like pattern. Moisture covered the ground causing a damp chill in the air of the passage. Once they cleared the wall, the warmth of the sun was a welcoming sensation. The guards on the interior wall were just as professional-looking as those on the outside. Displaying just how much the guardsmen at the city wall had fallen in their discipline. Milling about the large courtyard were other guards, going from one building to another.
“I have some things to attend to if you don’t mind,” stated the captain matter of factly, as he headed off to the large building to the right, taking the last two guards with him.
Turning to the left Victor escorted Sergei and the party to the stables where they turned over their horses to the ostler there.
“Master druid Sergei’s mare is to be given special treatment. Also, we are going to need some stretcher-bearers for the two youths,” Victor informed the ostler.
Looking over the wagon the ostler said confusedly “Two youths? I only see one and a very large cat.”
“Can a large cat not be a youth? I do believe looks can be very deceiving wouldn’t you agree?” Sergei responded.
“Yes, master druid, I am sorry I doubted. Vizier, if you would dismount so the boys can attend to your mount. Jacob, Henry get out here we have work to do. My name is Mattias sir druid. If you need anything let me know please.”
“Thank you, Mattias. But what I need most now are those stretcher-bearers so that we can get my apprentice and our companion into our rooms.”
“Billy run and get the stretchers for his mightiness, and be quick about it.”
Billy, a youth about ten with a decided resemblance to Mattias, bolted out of the stable at a dead run. Weaving in and out of the other pedestrians and traffic in the courtyard, surprisingly there were no collisions on his errand for the master ostler.
“Billy is a good boy if somewhat reckless. I have told him I don’t know how many times that if he runs through the courtyard like that, he is going to hurt himself one day, and that if he did, I would have no pity on him because he has been warned,” said Mattias offhandedly. “Now let’s see to your horses.”
With deft, precise movements, Mattias unharnessed Maybell and guided her into the stables. Sergei smiled watching the efficiency of the man as he cared for the horses, Mattias was a man who knew and loved his profession. Jacob a lean muscular young man came out to help with the wagon, Henry was not far behind. Between the two of them and Sergei, they soon had the wagon unloaded save the two unconscious youths. With care, Jacob and Henry maneuvered the wagon into a side shed designed for such conveyances. In the shed were three very ornate carriages, their brassworks polished to a perfect gleaming finish. Just as they arranged the wagon in the way they wanted four men approached with stretchers between them.
“Where are the youths you need transporting sir druid?” asked the lead man.
“They are on the wagon still,” replied Sergei. “Please be very gentle with the one on the bed of the wagon. He has taken a serious wound to the right shoulder. Amarna will be attending to him presently, I hope, once we are settled in our rooms.”
Billy running through the courtyard with the exuberance of youth slipped on the wet cobbles near the fountain and fell crashing into the edge of the fountain with a sickening crunch. Letting out a cry of pain when he tried to get up, falling back to the earth. His leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Several of the soldiers stopping, reacted quickly, each lifting the boy under an arm and hoisting him up carried him over to the stables. Mattias looking at him just shook his head.
“What have I been telling you about running through the courtyard?”
“That one of these days I would hurt myself,” Billy whimpered.
“If you gentlemen would be so kind as to bring him along to my quarters, I will have Amarna set his leg while she is there. Victor, I believe we can proceed. I see the pages coming now to gather our belongings.”
“I agree. We should not keep Amarna cooling her heels. She should either be there by now or is very close to arriving. That august woman has no patience, though she is the best at what she does.”
“She is an old friend; one I do not visit enough. But it is such a long journey from my place.”
Victor motioning the stretcher-bearers and guardsmen to follow as he led Sergei to his suite. The rooms he led them to were elegantly displayed. There were three bedrooms off the main room with a plumbed-in bathing room off the third side. The room was furnished with two long couches and a very large overstuffed easy chair set beside a handsome side table with elegant scrollwork legs, the upholstery was rich velvet brocade in greens and browns reminiscent of woodlands, with a woodland motif on the walls. The doorway was a rich golden oak with an inlaid placard of bronze which simply stated “Druid's royal apartments”. Sergei found himself at a loss when in these rooms, they were too sumptuously suited for his simple lifestyle. He preferred having the minor comforts of his family’s farmstead rather than this opulence. This time however he was very glad of the comforts afforded here. The guards laid Billy down on one of the couches while the stretcher-bearers bore their cares into the second bedroom. Careful, not to jostle the cat, as they set the stretcher on the floor and eased Eldrick into the over large bed. Deciding to leave the cat on the stretcher they collected the other and took their leave stating they would return for the other on the morrow and hastily departed.
Amarna, a thick middle-aged woman knocked on the outer door about two minutes after the departure of the bearers. Without awaiting a call to enter marched her prodigious person into the room.
“Sergei, how dare you take so long to come call?” she laughingly cried as she entered. “You know I can’t travel anymore and it has been a decade since you were here last.” With a glance around the room and through the open bedroom door she gasped. “I was told two youths needing my attention and here I find three. What happened Billy? What have you gotten into Sergei? Your apprentice is unconscious and you're travelling with a wild animal which, from the looks of it, should be dead?" She tsked to herself, "I know you care for all the woodland critters, but by Servalin's coat that poor animal has been sorely injured.” The incredulity in her voice spoke volumes to her outrage. “I shall be here all night. I haven’t had to spend more than an hour or two in trance for many years. You are going to have to make this up to me Mister.”
“Ma'am, I was running in the courtyard when I fell and now my leg is all twisted and hurts something awful,” Billy replied to her question.
“Amarna, my sweet lady," she cut him off with a wave of her hand. Ignoring it he continued, "I will be more than happy to regale you as to the circumstances of the incidents which led to the other problems in a bit. If you wouldn’t mind setting the lad's leg so he can return to the stable first.”
With a disgusted look towards Sergei, "What do you think I am doing? MEN!" Asking the guard who accompanied her to get splinting materials and a crutch for Billy. Explaining to Billy that setting the bones was going to be very painful and he couldn’t move while she did so. With a nod, Billy grabbed on tightly to the edge and back of the couch as she manipulated his leg to straighten it and align the broken bones. Screaming in pain he passed out. Once the splint makings arrived Amarna quickly splinted the leg while Billy was still unconscious.