Heirs of the Enemy (68 page)

“That, Colonel, is why you are to manage it closely. Keep your fairy hidden at all times, but use him to contact me if the need arises. You can also count on him to spy upon the soldiers. He will bring you warnings of troubles before they begin.”

“What about the unicorn?” asked the colonel. “Will he be leaving with you?”

“No. He will remain as your mount. I am going to speak to Colonel Magee before I leave Olansk. I will reveal to him what I have revealed to you, so he may come to you with a need to contact me for one reason or another. I also plan to tell Colonel Hardi and Colonel Donil. No one else in A Corps is to know at this time. Keep that secret, Colonel.”

* * * *

The servant showed Edmond into a large sitting room. The merchant warrior saw that King Bartomir and Prince Bultar were already present. He strode forward and bowed respectfully. The king nodded to Edmond, but the prince came across the floor to greet his old friend. The prince grasped Edmond’s shoulders and smiled broadly.

“Edmond! How good of you to stop by this dreary place. Come. Sit and tell us of your travels.”

“It has been a long time since my last visit,” Edmond said as the prince led him to a chair. “Much in the world has changed since then.”

“Like Tyronia joining the Federation,” commented the king. “How has that affected your father’s business?”

“There has been a lessening of trade,” reported Edmond, “but Sidney is not heavily involved in the business any more. I manage most of it now.”

“I would think that joining the Federation would increase your business,” stated King Bartomir. “As a member, you should have access to trade that was denied you previously.”

“That is true, King Bartomir, but other more lucrative routes have dried up. Most of my business now is east of the Barrier. In fact, I was coming here to carry a load to Giza that cannot be delivered by your boats.”

“But the roads are closed,” frowned the king. “How can you get through when no else can?”

“I can’t,” answered Edmond. “I should have known better. I had to abandon my wagons before I reached Zinbar.”

“The early winter caught all of us by surprise,” said the prince. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I had advance notice of the early winter, and I ignored it. It is my own fault, so I must berate myself.”

“Advance notice?” frowned the king. “What are you talking about? No one knows the weather beforehand.”

“I did,” sighed Edmond. “I ran into a mystic during my travels. I shared my camp with him one night, and in return for my hospitality, he foretold the early winter. He even named the date that the world would shake. I thought him a fool at the time, but his accuracy was amazing. No, I can blame no one for my abandoned wagons but myself.”

“A mystic that can foretell the future is truly a man of vision,” stated the king. “I should like to talk to one like that.”

Edmond chuckled, and the king and prince looked at him curiously. The king began to frown as if he were being mocked, but Edmond quickly apologized.

“I mean no disrespect, King Bartomir, but your words struck me funny. That man of vision, as you called him, is blind. You can see the irony of your words. As for getting a chance to see him, you are a fortunate man indeed. I ran into him again. He is staying at the Gateway Lodge.”

“Here in Zinbar?” asked the king. “Right now?”

“Yes.” Edmond nodded. “I saw him as I was leaving the inn.”

“Was he coming or going?” the king asked anxiously.

“I would assume that it does not matter,” answered Edmond. “As you have noted, the roads are closed. He is not going anywhere.”

“What did you ask him this time?” asked Prince Bultar.

“I did not ask him anything,” answered Edmond. “I did not want to impose upon him, and I was ashamed that I did not heed his advice the last time. It would be embarrassing to tell him that I had to abandon my wagons after I ignored his warning.”

“Do you think this mystic would accept an invitation to the Royal Palace?” asked the king.

“I cannot say for sure,” answered the merchant warrior, “but I found him to be a personable fellow. I think if you offered to share a meal with him, he would be inclined to accept your hospitality.”

“What is his name and where can he be found?” asked the king.

“He is called Wylan, and he has a room at the Gateway Lodge.”

“A rather fancy inn for a blind traveler,” frowned Prince Bultar. “How does he afford it?”

“How do you think?” scoffed the king. “If you could foretell the future, would you be a poor man or a rich one? Send someone to fetch him.”

“Why?” asked Edmond.

The king looked at Edmond with a puzzled expression. “Why?” he echoed. “Why not is the proper question. Why would anyone pass up the chance to hear what mysteries the future holds?”

“I understand that,” smiled Edmond, “but I have just arrived, and I would like some time to visit. Why not invite the mystic for the evening meal? I am sure that would mean more to him than merely summoning him to perform at command.”

“He is right, Father,” agreed the prince. “We cannot force the mystic to reveal the future to us. Remember that he did so for Edmond after sharing a meal with him.”

“Alright,” sighed the king, “but send a messenger to invite him to the palace for dinner.”

“He is a mystic,” chuckled Edmond. “If you invite him for a meal, why should you need a messenger to tell him that. He probably already knows where he is eating tonight.”

The prince joined in the laughter, but the king stared impatiently at the prince. It soon became obvious that King Bartomir did not want to take a chance that the mystic might not show up. Prince Bultar nodded obediently to his father and rose to find a messenger.

The servant hurried to the entry foyer of the Royal Palace of Candanar to await the king’s special guest. He had been warned that the man was blind, and he made sure that there were no obstructions in the corridors he planned to travel. The wait was not long, but the servant was aghast when the doors were opened, and a man in a simple brown cloak appeared. The mystic held a staff and it tapped the floor before him.

“I am to take you to King Bartomir, Lord Wylan,” the servant said loudly, not sure if the mystic was also hard of hearing.

“I am no lord,” scoffed Wylan as he stepped through the open doorway. “Lead the way.”

The servant reached for Wylan’s arm to guide him, but the mystic proudly pulled away from the man’s touch.

“I may be blind,” scowled Wylan, “but I am not an invalid, and I will not be treated as one. Lead the way, and I will follow. If you cannot speak within these royal halls, hum. I will follow the sound of your voice.”

The servant’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he dared not offend the king’s guest. He walked backwards slowly, humming a children’s song, and watched as Wylan followed him, the blind man’s staff testing the floor before him. For a blind man, Wylan moved rather spryly, his staff constantly tapping before him. The servant quickened his pace while still walking backwards until he found it too awkward to maintain the pace. As he led Wylan out of the entry foyer and into a corridor, he turned and walked normally, listening to the constant rhythm of the staff upon the tiled floors.

“Turn to the right coming up,” the servant said conversationally as the corridor bent.

The blind man merely nodded in acknowledgment as his staff began testing the right-hand wall in addition to the floor in front of him. The servant slowed and turned to watch as Wylan smoothly rounded the bend in the corridor. With a shake of his head, the servant started humming again and proceeded to lead the blind man to the king’s dining hall.

When the doors of the dining room were opened, all eyes were drawn to it. King Bartomir frowned when a servant entered the room, humming a child’s ditty. A moment later, Wylan’s poorly-attired frame filled the doorway.

“Does he realize that this is the Royal Palace of Candanar?” the king scowled softly.

The blind man immediately halted and pivoted to face the king. He bowed respectfully.

“The look of my wardrobe matters little to me, King Bartomir,” stated Wylan. “If you find it disturbing, I will remove myself from your presence so that you are not offended.”

The king’s face turned red as he realized that the blind man had heard his soft-spoken comment. Prince Bultar immediately spoke.

“We are not offended, Lord Wylan, though I will admit that your attire is uncommon within these walls. Please, let our man seat you.”

Wylan turned towards the sound of the prince’s voice and bowed again. “You must be Prince Bultar. I thank you and the king for the invitation to dine with you, and I do apologize for my attire. I am not used to dining with such august company.”

Edmond rose to his feet and noisily pulled out the chair next to his. Wylan’s head immediately turned towards the sound, his patched eyes glancing upward towards the ceiling.

“Perhaps you would do me the honor of sitting next to me,” Edmond said cheerily.

“Edmond, the merchant warrior,” Wylan said with a smile as he started walking towards the sound of Edmond’s voice. “I remember you.”

“And I remember you,” smiled Edmond. “Your prediction of an early winter was quite accurate.”

Wylan’s staff sought out the legs of the chair, and once they were found, he eased himself into the seat. Edmond pushed the chair towards the table and then took his seat next to the mystic.

“Some things I see so clearly that there can be no doubt,” replied Wylan. “I trust you made good use of my warning?”

“No,” Edmond said as he sat back down. “I must admit to being guilty of ignoring your prophetic words. I apologize.”

Wylan’s hand moved along that table until it found Edmond’s hand. He patted it in a fatherly way. “You survived the first snows. That is all that matters. Sometimes knowing the future is not worth much. Other times such knowledge makes the difference between life and death. I am glad that this event was the former and not the latter.”

The king waved to the servants standing off in the distance, and they began serving the meal.

“It must be a very interesting life knowing what the future holds,” King Bartomir said to Wylan. “I assume that such knowledge has made you a wealthy man.”

“I do not suffer from a lack of gold,” Wylan smiled wryly, “but neither do I have much use for it. It keeps me well fed and enables me to sleep comfortably whenever I find myself in a city. As for my life being interesting, at times such forewarnings can become a burden that I do not wish to bear. Unfortunately, there is no way to avoid what I see. It comes to me without regards to my happiness or grief.”

“I cannot imagine such a gift,” replied the king. “What does our future hold?”

Prince Bultar shot a glare towards his father for his blunt request, but the king did not notice. His eyes were fixed on the mystic.

Wylan sighed. “The future is what it will be, and it exists on many levels. Most of the time, I see the future on a grand and global scale, but occasionally, I can see the future of individuals, although that usually requires a touch to focus my thoughts. I prefer not to delve into such activities as so many people have dark futures. We live in a violent world after all.”

The king frowned. He had expected some startling predictions, but the mystic was proving to be a disappointment. The king dismissed the servants and ate silently while Prince Bultar and Edmond started talking about what had been happening in their lives. At one point, Edmond joked about his abandoned wagons, indicating that they might sit there for half a year because of the early winter.

“Spring will come early,” Wylan interjected. “This winter will be no longer than any other, although it will be much fiercer than any we remember.”

“The growing season will be longer then?” asked the king.

“No,” answered Wylan. “The seasons have changed forever. Our thoughts regarding the starting date for winter are no longer valid. We must adjust our calendar.” The mystic suddenly turned his head towards the wall behind the king’s chair. His brow knitted with concern, and the others stared at him questioningly.

“What is it?” asked Edmond.

Wylan shook his head as if to clear it. “Is there a sword where I am looking?”

Everyone turned to stare at the wall. While their attention was diverted, Wylan released his fairy. Twerp immediately shot under the table and out of view.

“There are two swords,” answered Prince Bultar as he stared at the colorful patches covering Wylan’s eyes. “Can you see them?”

“In my mind,” Wylan nodded. “I see one of them falling to the floor.”

The king turned back towards the table with a dismissive glance towards the mystic. He pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. Twerp took the opportunity to dart through the king’s legs to the wall behind him. With a quick glance to make sure that Edmond had captured the prince’s attention, the fairy shot upwards to hide behind a ceiling beam. He levitated one of the swords out of the bracket holding it to the wall. Once it was clear of the bracket, the fairy released his spell. The sword fell to the tile floor with a crash loud enough to bring servants and guards racing into the room. The King, prince, and merchant leaped to their feet and turned to stare at the sword.

“I think we should retire to the sitting room,” the king said softly as he waved dismissively at the guards. “Perhaps Wylan will be kind enough to speak to us about our own futures.”

Edmond pulled back Wylan’s chair, but he did not help the mystic rise. The four men walked out of the dining room and into a nearby sitting room where a roaring fire was already lit in the fireplace. While the others sat down, Wylan walked towards the warmth of the fire, standing with his back to the others. Twerp slipped into his pocket, and Wylan turned around to face the others.

“I am not used to being called upon to reveal the future,” Wylan said softly, “but your hospitality has been generous, and I have enjoyed hearing of the adventures of Edmond and the prince. I will attempt to learn what I can about Prince Bultar. Please speak so that I may find you.”