Knights of the Wizard (of Knights and Wizards Book 2) (6 page)

AT THREE HOURS BEFORE DAWN Marcus wandered through the halls of the castle, mumbling and talking to people that weren’t there; he was sleepwalking and the guards were too frightened to approach him. In the kitchen he had a conversation with a three-legged iron pot for a time and when he gestured toward it for emphasis it transformed into large black horse with the mind of a pot and so it just stood in place. He turned one of the spits into a dog and a long-handled frying pan for frying eggs into an eagle which flew off. Everyone was becoming wary of the boy and his unpredictability; some would now turn and head in the opposite direction at the sight of him.

Guards had been sent to fetch Darius but the king refused to approach the boy in such a state, not wanting to be transformed into some animal or inanimate object. Maybe this time he wouldn’t just revert back to his usual self, because magic was a tricky thing when one didn’t know what the hell they were doing. One guard was caught off guard when Marcus exited the kitchen.

“You’re a cute little fella aren’t you,” said Marcus to the guard. When the guard was touched, he was instantly transformed into a lion cub, although still with the mind of a guard, knowing exactly what had occurred. The guard lifted his right paw and stared at it, thinking
Oh no!

Darius was on his way back to bed when the raven commenced pecking at the door, and then a scratching noise was heard originating on the other side. Berhtram squawked getting the king’s attention. “Now what?” As the king opened his door to take a peek the lion cub entered, trying his best to complain to the king, and the sounds that were coming out of the cat were so amusing that Darius couldn’t help but laugh. It was the funniest thing that he had ever seen or heard.

“Reowwwww, rowww, reeeeeeeowww!” the lion said with attitude.

“Are you one of the guards?” asked the king.

The cub nodded.

“I am sorry about that,” said the king. “But I was a chicken once.” He heard footsteps from down the hall and when he stuck his head past the doorway he observed his son approaching with that wild look in his eyes. He quickly closed the door in the hope that Marcus would just continue on; he knew something had to be done about him.

The fact that the king had once been a chicken didn’t appease the cat at all and he took a proper fit, but there was nothing that could be done about it. In time, he would either revert to himself or he wouldn’t. Darius put his ear to the door and listened, not hearing anything he slowly opened the door which squeaked, only to come face to face with Marcus, the king screamed and slammed the door shut, catching a part of the cub’s tail.

The king felt like a prisoner in his own chamber.

STONE, ALEXA, TYMON AND THE OTHERS arrived back at the castle at noon while King Darius watched them ride in, and Marcus ran up to greet them after just having finished a long talk with his father. The boy now knew he was facing an exile of sorts, at least until he could figure out how to be a proper wizard, depending on how high he tested on the wizard scale. He stared at Tymon, never had he seen such a small man before but had been cautioned by his father not to mention it.

The king welcomed Tymon, seeing the expression on his face; he realized that he wasn’t happy to be there; looking tired and frustrated but was happy enough to see the king. He was immediately invited in for a meal and accepted, as their horses were taken away to be fed they made their way to the great hall, talking about the last time they had seen one another. The great hall was huge and elaborate, massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling with their candles unlit. At the end of the long table was a setting for two, shiny goblets and the king’s finest wine, with several servants in brown robes ready to serve. It was used as a room for dining and a place to welcome dignitaries as well, and where Stone and Alexa were married. Tymon sat on a fancy chair, with several pillows beneath him to make him more comfortable because of his diminished stature; he noticed that the servants were staring at him out of the corner of their eyes.

Tymon looked up at the high pointed roof that was supported by many wooden arches held in place by corbels. He hadn’t been in here for quite a long time and he noticed that some of the tapestries were different. Many beautiful stained glass windows permitted light to shine on seven tapestries that were hung in the hall, one showing the king in the process of knighting Stone. On the opposite side of the great hall were four large fireplaces, and three doors with one leading to the kitchen. Tymon was offered his choice of fried pig’s head, mutton and beef, a goose, venison and poultry. On his pewter trencher, Tymon had some venison and beef.

“Tell me about your son,” said Tymon.

“Well,” said the king. “He’s good at destroying things, continually damaging this part of the castle or that part of the castle. We have another castle that was built by my father years ago, used as a summer retreat I believe. We might have to send him there, at least until he can get used to his magical abilities.”

Tymon nodded as he ate, thinking on the situation. The land held pockets of magical activity but even so only certain people could become wizards, and new sorcerers could be very dangerous indeed. “Tell me more your majesty.”

The king nodded, remembering how he had been awoken from a sound sleep several times because of the castle shaking. “He casts spells in his sleep.”

He bit into his food and nodded. “Magic is unstable in a new wizard, and as he casts proper spells he will use up some of that excess energy and become more stable but it can take years. Are you aware of the abandoned kingdom that is more than two hundred miles to the west?”

“Yes, Maugard.” The king noticed the look on Tymon’s face. “It’s a mystery that’s never been solved.”

Tymon cleared his throat. “Well from what I’ve heard from the niiwu, a new wizard cast some sort of spell that went terribly wrong. More than a thousand people just vanished and were never seen again.”

Darius thought about it, could the same fate befall them as well. “Oh, my.”

Tymon nodded. “Powerful magic is a dangerous thing in the hands of the incompetent, and worst still are the enchantments that manifest themselves. Quite frankly I’m a little frightened to even get close to the boy. But I guess it must be done.”

The king didn’t like the sound of that as a servant poured Darius more wine. “I don’t know of a single spell that Marcus has cast with the intended result being accomplished. Thank the heavens his spells usually don’t endure for very long. I was a chicken for a while. But years?”

Tymon sank his wine and then finished what he wanted of the meal. He was anxious to get the whole thing over with so he could get back to the mountain, now hoping that he wasn’t going to be transformed into a chicken. “That will change, soon enough his enchantments will become more stable, the good and the bad. He will need to know how to reverse his spells, and if he doesn’t you could end up being the chicken king. Since I am pressed for time, I will get busy building the revealing arc and we’ll see just how powerful your son is. There is also another story from long ago of a young wizard of barely twenty that inadvertently destroyed his entire kingdom, accidentally set everyone on fire.”

“Yes,” said the king. “I’ve heard that one. Did I mention that he walks in his sleep?”

Tymon shook his head.

Outside a crowd had gathered in the courtyard to watch Tymon build the revealing arc. Marcus came out of the stables where he had been watching the sheep being shorn, seeing the crowd gathering and knowing that he was going to be the center of attention made him nervous. What if he accidentally turned someone into something with all those witnesses? He ambled toward the arc where Tymon stood awaiting his arrival.

Along the walls of the courtyard were small buildings for storage, a well, haystacks and an orchard of fruit trees and sugar maples. The residents of the kingdom were as interested in tiny Tymon as they were in what he was doing, being the only little person in the kingdom. Marcus was dragging his feet as he slowly approached. He felt like running away but didn’t.

“I’m sure you can walk faster than that boy,” said Tymon.

Tymon had the men dig an arc into the ground, about a hand width deep, and in that trench he poured salt until he was satisfied that it was a solid line. He then had the king’s men place four posts into the ground and above that a straw roof was erected forming a structure with no walls. He then had Marcus walk around tossing enchanted salt up on the roof, doing so for almost a half hour until Tymon was finally satisfied. He dug a hole dead center under the straw roof, picked Marcus’s finger and dropped three drops of his blood onto it, and then took a pouch from around his neck and sprinkled a pinch of coal dust that had also been spelled, filling in the hole. He had the boy gather some wood for a fire and placed it on top of the hole that contained his blood, and already he could see sparkles of energy drifting up from the ground and into Marcus. He had never seen that happen before and hoped that it wasn’t a bad sign.

“Now your majesty, Marcus will light the fire with his energy. If the fire remains low to the ground, it means a low-level wizard. If it rises past the boys belly it means he is a major wizard and in between would be a moderate sorcerer.”

Marcus looked puzzled as everyone looked on. “How do I light the fire?”

“With your magic boy!” said Tymon. “Wait, because the boy’s magic is so unpredictable perhaps everyone should back up. Move back everyone, back up, more, more.”

As the crowd retreated, a few of them tripping over one another, Alexa and Stone watched curiously from a distance, not knowing what was going to happen and his sister was worried about her brother. She was also curious to see how powerful he really was. It was exciting yet had the possibility of unpleasant consequences for her little brother. Lance, Merrill and Obed observed from a distance near the wall, knowing that magic was a supernatural thing not to be trusted.

Lance smiled. “It would be funny if Marcus inadvertently cast a spell, stretching the little fellow three times his size.”

“Indeed,” said Merrill.

Marcus approached the pile of branches with trepidation, not knowing what to wish for because of the consequences. Being a powerful sorcerer would make him special but most likely get him kicked out of the kingdom for safety reasons, and so being a moderate wizard was probably the best outcome. The boy aimed the palm of his hand and out of it came a red hot spark, setting the branches alight. At first the fire remained low to the ground, but then the flame shot up as everyone gasped, so high that it set the straw roof on fire. And then there was a loud explosion.

Tymon backed up and fell over, had never seen anything like it because he didn’t think it possible for a sorcerer to be that powerful. He watched as the fire was completely consuming the roof, with red, orange and blue flame reaching for the sky. “You should take the boy and throw him off a cliff! I’m getting the hell out of here! You’re all in great danger, great danger. Don’t even look in my direction boy!”

Stone looked at Alexa. “I was afraid of that.”

Marcus headed toward the castle with his head down, banished from his own kingdom, if only he could figure out how to be a proper sorcerer.

Alexa didn’t know what to say. “Poor Marcus.”

THE SKY WAS REPLETE WITH PUFFY WHITE CLOUDS and a large crow flew under them, soaring and cawing as it circled until it ran into a tree and tumbled to the ground. The bird shook its head as it gathered its bearings. King Chromos didn’t think that he would ever get accustomed to having wings, just didn’t have the grace or the skill of a genuine crow. He felt awkward from the time he opened his eyes in the morning until he closed his eyes at night. Unfortunately for him he didn’t have the mind of a bird and being a human trapped inside a bird was very unpleasant, it was not something that one could get accustomed to at all. The only time he was comfortable was when he was dreaming that he was back in human form but upon awakening the nightmare returned.

“Caw, caw!” the king cried.

It wasn’t that Chromos hadn’t deserved such a fate or even worse but people often believed that they were better than they were or deserved a better outcome that had befallen them. Getting revenge when one was a bird was next to impossible and yet he spent his days thinking of ways to satisfy his thirst for blood. He wanted to gain some satisfaction out of his now revolting existence.

Chromos flew up to king Darius’s chamber and perched on the window sill to see if there was anything that he could throw outside to annoy the king. He looked around for signs of the raven, ready to flee if necessary. The king’s chamber door was open and just as he flew onto the king’s bed; Berhtram flew in and perched on the bedpost, cocking his head at the crow. Chromos attacked Berhtram but was no match for the raven and had to fly for his life. Berhtram had more experience fighting and now Chromos had a cut on his face all the way up to his eye for his effort, and it burned something terrible. Never mind that he had to fly almost a mile before the raven broke off the attack. It appeared that things could actually get worse than they were.

And no servants to treat his wound he thought.

Chromos flew back over Leeander, watching two knights jousting; one got knocked off of his black horse onto his head, but miraculously stood up unscathed. The crow flew over a young girl carrying a chunk of bread, swooped down and snatched it from her right hand, landing on a nearby roof as he started to peck at it. He had gone from a mighty king to a lowly scavenger. He wasn’t even sure how the hell it happened, he had heard rumors of a wizard dragon that had transformed them, but he thought that it must surely be nonsense. Then again if he had destroyed the dragons when he had had the opportunity he might not be in this predicament, one of life’s decisions that he would surely regret the remainder of his pitiful existence. He didn’t even have anyone that he could complain to, it was
caw caw this and caw caw that.
Getting his men to understand even the simplest things was like pulling teeth, of which he no longer possessed.

Suddenly an arrow whizzed by Chromos, shot from a youngster far below. Since they all knew that the Yurrosy were now crows, they were attacked on a daily basis, and this had been the third time today for Chromos, two rocks and now an arrow. He circled around and spotted a rock that was about half the size of a man’s fist and so he swooped down and snatched it with his claws. He took to the air with it, watching the 9-year-old as the child turned his attention to a bale of hay. He flew around trying hard to drop the rock so that it would hit the boy on the head, perhaps splitting him open and drawing some blood, but if a genuine crow had such a talent he hadn’t inherited it. When he thought his aim was right he dropped the rock, hitting the boy on the left shoulder and making him call out in pain, the boy’s shoulder was too sore to shoot any more arrows for the day, at least he had accomplished something.

Chromos took to the sky for a time, at least the views were spectacular though still quite scary; he flew into a hole in the side of the cliff and ruminated for several hours. Inside there he had several items, including two gold coins, a silver ring, a red handkerchief that the king had dropped and an empty vial. He even had a dagger that he would eventually consider dropping on someone, most likely the king, but until he perfected his aim that would have to wait. Oh, how he had imagined that dagger sticking into the top of Darius’s head, perhaps deep enough to kill him. He had attempted to sharpen the weapon with rocks, but he wasn’t sure if he had made it better or worse. He finally perked up as an idea came to mind, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy to accomplish, but he thought it was worth a try.

The crow took to the sky and every time he did so he felt like he was going to fall to his death. After almost an hour in the air he touched down in a patch of black dragon berries, soft and juicy little prickly things. The berries were poisonous to people but took a long time to destroy one’s liver, a cumulative effect that could take years. It would elevate Chromos’s mood by the mere fact that he was doing something to the king. Perhaps it would give Darius indigestion.

Chromos took several of the berries and flew off with them in the direction of the castle, making sure not to bite down too hard, lest he end up with the poison in him.

King Darius entered his chamber with a cup of tea and several biscuits, taking a bite and then a sip of tea. Abbey ran in behind him giggling, carrying an empty leather pouch, jumping around and swatting at Darius. Abbey was two and the cutest girl in the kingdom, at least the king thought so. Darius placed his tea on the table and picked up his granddaughter, tossing her in the air and loving her infectious laugh.

“Abbey, don’t you have any parents?”

“No.”

“Where’s your mother?”

“Down there.” Abbey pointed straight down.

“You know Abbey, at your age you shouldn’t be climbing all those stairs by yourself because you’re gonna fall and break your head. Do you want to have a broken head? Do you?”

“No!”

Darius kissed her and she squirmed to get down. “What are you gonna do with a broken head?”

“Nuffin,” said Abbey.

The king pushed his red robe aside so as to not get any tea on it and took a drink, then placing the white cup back down on his night table. Chromos flew in and was immediately attacked by Berhtram and the feathers were flying, but the crow somehow managed to drop one of the berries into the tea and then immediately flew off. Abbey picked up the cup and commenced to drink.