The Black Mage: Apprentice (23 page)

"As I was just saying, apprentice, there can
be no mistakes in tomorrow's mission. You and the prince will have
somewhat a minor role, but it is nonetheless vital that you two
stick to your assignment and do not allow emotion – or pity - to
sway your actions." Our leader was alluding to last night's
revelation that our prestigious mission was, in fact, a
kidnapping.

For the past week and a half we had been
memorizing a detailed map of Caltoth's northeastern coast, learning
the expected route we would take to arrive in Dastan Cove
unnoticed. We had sailed just north of it, approximately a
two-day's trek from the seafaring harbor. Flint, our mysterious
traveling companion, knew the territory well. From what I had
gathered he had served as a sentry there before coming to Jerar. He
was to be our guide. The three mages would do most of the "blood
work" while Darren and I acted as scouts.

At first I had been uncomfortable. I had been
prepared for battle, spying on the enemy, stealing an important
document or two. Never had I ever contemplated taking a young
woman, not much older than me, hostage. She wasn't a mage, not even
a fighter, merely the young wife of the baron in charge of the
city… Mira and Flint wouldn't even tell us why the girl was
important, only that they were under Crown orders to "acquire
her."

But then Mira had mentioned the word "rebels"
and I had stopped worrying about the girl's life. That attack in
the Red Desert's salt mines would stay with me forever, and I had
only to register the haunted look in Darren's eyes to understand
how important our mission really was. Jerar couldn't afford a war.
If whatever this girl knew would help save innocent lives, it was
well worth it.

****

It took me all of the first and second day
stumbling across the cold, pine-infested mountainside to get some
semblance of normalcy to my gait. Darren kept shooting me impatient
glances. I was slowing our progress down and we were supposed to be
the scouting party.

Eventually, we made it out of the dense trees
and up a cold, frost-covered peak that Flint had told us would
provide easy vantage for spotting sentries. "They will not have a
full guard this far north – but you still need to be vigilant. They
might have changed their routine in the year since I left. They
think I'm dead, but Caltothians are overly-cautious in
everything."

Trying not to wheeze too heavily, I joined
Darren in his shadowed alcove and scanned the land below, willing
the feeling of unsteady ground to pass. Never again would I
volunteer to board a ship. All my life I had lived relatively
sickness-free. The gods were clearly enjoying a good joke now that
I had spent almost two weeks living out the worst humiliation – and
symptoms - of my life.

"Take this." Darren held out his water skin,
his eyes locked on the city below us.

I took a swig and choked on its contents. I
had been expecting water – not the sweet taste of peppermint.

"It's for the nausea."

I took another swallow, and then another,
letting the cold brew settle into my stomach. It brought back
memories of my childhood. My parents had always given us mint tea
for an after-dinner treat during the cold winter nights. I was well
aware of its benefits, but I was surprised the prince had cared
enough to offer it. I had almost drunk the entire contents before I
realized I should save some for Darren.

"Thanks." I handed it back to him.

The prince waved the skin away. "That one was
for you."

I almost dropped it. "Me?"

"I found the mint at the edge of the marsh we
made camp at last night. I thought it might help."

I didn't know what to say. After two weeks of
silence and short, clipped sentences this was the most Darren had
spoken to me. We had never discussed my decision, and now out here,
alone, away from the others – and especially after his gift - I
felt a need to say something.

"Darren-"

"Don't." His words were tired, and for the
first time I thought I detected some bitterness. "You made the
right decision, Ryiah. Let's just leave it at that."

But I didn't want to
. I bit my tongue
and tried to focus on the brightly lit port just past the rocky
shores below us. In Caltoth even its coastline was a much colder,
much different kind of port than the one we had come from.

The city's harbor was twice the size of
Langli. I could immediately understand why Darren had called it the
wealthiest nation. Most of the buildings in Jerar consisted of
timber frames with moderately thatched roofs; below, all I saw was
brick: house after house and shop after shop of brick, sturdy walls
and heavy curtained windows (a luxury that only a king's palace or
lord's castle could usually afford), wide cobblestone paths marking
every direction of street, and torches at every corner housed by
giant stone pillars.

And, of course, the entire harbor was guarded
by as many soldiers as the entire citizenship of Langli.

I drew a sharp intake of breath and Darren
noticed. "It's a very important post," he explained. "This is the
harbor they ship all of their exports, including the rubies, from.
My father said one third of Caltoth's militia guards it – and most
of them
aren't
visible. The ones we see are the ones they
want us to see."

Flint had of course told us the same thing,
but I had forgotten until now – looking down at what could easily
rival the capital back in Jerar.

"How many?"

"How many what?"

"Sentries, Ryiah." Darren gave me a sideways
look. "Stop staring and get to work. Mira will cut our throats if
we give her the wrong numbers."

I made a face. "Not yours."

"Well I still don't want to spend all night
freezing while you gawk."

I almost smiled. For a moment it felt like
things were back to the way they used to be between us, before that
night at the ball. Before the awkwardness at the last ascension. A
friendship that was slightly insulting, but with enough undisguised
humor to let me know it was in jest.

After twenty minutes of counting, and then
another hour of matching up Flint's landmarks to their actual
positions, the two of us confirmed that the guards' formation
hadn't changed. We hurried as quickly and quietly as we could back
to camp.

Andy looked happy to see us but everyone else
looked cold and impatient.

"Well?" Mira demanded. The mage's yellow eyes
glinted like a cat's in the tiny orange light she was casting. Real
fires were out of the question. We couldn't leave any trace of our
presence for a patrol to find.

Darren smiled grimly. Shadows danced along
the strong line of his jaw. "Everything is as Flint said."

"Good. Then we set out at first light."

****

I straightened the maid's dress and brushed
my sweating palms against its clean underskirt, reciting Mira's
instructions one final time. Even though I had just eaten, my
stomach was twisting and turning and my hands wouldn't stop
shaking. The sun was about to set. It was time to go.

If I failed in any part of my assignment, the
mission would fail.

I was sure Mira would have given my task to
someone else if she could have – but the task was best given to a
woman who could act the part of a lady's maid. Mira was too famous
as the sister of Jerar's Black Mage. Andy, far too imposing in
size. I was their best bet.

I stepped out into the packed village square
and made my way to Baron Cyr's castle, which shone like a gray
beacon amongst the red sky above. There were two guards who watched
my progress as I drew close. I handed the one nearest my forged
papers and then entered the great doors of the baron's hall with a
deep breath and a steady walk.

"Two flights of stairs to your left after you
pass a long corridor upon entry. Take the stairs and make three
rights to the lady's chambers, which will be the first room you
come across. Make sure you carry something so the others don't find
your presence suspicious. The lady will be taking her dinner on the
southern balcony since the baron is still away. She always does
this whenever he travels so she can be the first to spot his ship
upon its return. While she and her ladies-in-waiting are there, you
must enter her chambers and locate a tapestry of the baron's
keep."

Trying to appear hurried – as if I had
already been assigned some household chore instead of wandering - I
scurried past various servants to the second floor and located Lady
Sybil's room. I was carrying a vase of flowers I had grabbed upon
entry. I quickly deposited them on her dresser.

I scanned the walls for a tapestry. I found
it at the corner of the lady's bedpost and then felt underneath for
a hidden latch. I twisted and a door swung back, leading into a
dark passage that Flint had said would lead to a relatively
unguarded cellar in the back of the castle.

"The only people that know about this tunnel
are the guards and the baron's family. The door can only be
unlocked from the inside so they usually don't bother with an
extensive patrol at its entrance… Ryiah, once you unlock this door
you need to use something to jam it. Try a piece of cloth or
something similar to keep the latch from catching. Do not cast. You
can't expel any of your magic or have anyone notice you are not who
you seem to be."

I left the room after I had successfully
jammed the door with a bit of leftover candle wax from the lady's
nightstand. To the untrained eye it would be easy to miss the
slight line in the otherwise untouched wall and its secret door
behind. It was what we were counting on.

I found my way to the balcony and then pushed
my way past two guards, the ladies-in-waiting and their mistress. I
feigned interest in lighting a torch overlooking the edge of the
railing. It wasn't dark yet and to anyone else it would appear I
was preparing for night to fall.

In truth I was lighting the signal fire to
the others below.

"Miss, miss, what are you doing? The lady
does not light that unless her husband is returning!" A
lady-in-waiting quickly doused the flame I had just cultivated.

Panic reached out and gripped my throat like
an invisible hand. The fire had only lasted for a minute. What if
the others missed it? Flint had never told us that the torch was
ceremonial. Mira was counting on me. They all were.

"Surely the lady does not wish to eat in the
dark?" I asked with a simpering smile, trying not to grate my
teeth.

The maid gave me an odd look. "She won't –
her meal is almost done. She and the little lady Tamora are always
done before dark."

"L-lady Tamora?" And then I saw the small
child at the lady's right – a fistful of black curls like the
mother, with wide, innocent blue eyes. She could not be more than
five years of age.

My stomach clenched. Lady Sybil had a
daughter.

"What did you say your name was?" The maid's
stare had changed from annoyance to suspicion.

I swallowed as I realized too late my
mistake. Even a new maid would know if her lady had children.

A series of shouts and the clamor of a sudden
panic below stole the maid's attention away. She and the others
rushed to the railing to see what had caused the commotion below. I
pretended to do the same while silently thanking the gods that
Darren had noticed my signal.

Below, on the southern edge of the city's
farmland was a huge, hungry fire eating away at the local crop
field and its adjoining pasture with frightening speed. The prince
had done well in such a short amount of time.

Men and women were running with buckets of
water, guards were searching the crowds, and there, dressed in a
heavy peasant's costume, was the non-heir. Slinking along the
shadows as the city erupted in chaos.

 "Your ladyship – you and the child must
get back to your rooms immediately!" The maid who had questioned me
was busy dragging the baroness to her feet while the guards secured
the railing behind us.

"They will be fearful of an attack. Their
first move will be to get the lady to safety. You must find a way
to remain in her presence at all costs."

Most of the ladies-in-waiting had already run
to their quarters, but two guards stood waiting for the baroness
and her child. I would never be able to join them unnoticed. Not
with the suspicious maid watching my every move.

I needed to do something.

Pretending to busy myself with the lady's
belongings, I cast out my magic. At once the maid's mouth and nose
were covered in a thick rag, sealing her airways.

Thirty seconds. That was all I needed.

The maid let out a muffled cry, clawing at
the object on her face. The guards and lady started to turn - I
coughed loudly, bringing their attention back around to me. The
child was too busy clutching her mother's skirts to notice.

Sixteen. Seventeen.

The maid stomped her feet loudly and I
pretended to fall to cover the sound.

Twenty-two. Twenty-three.

"Miss, are you okay?"

I stared up at the guards and shook my head,
pretending to be frazzled.

One of the guards smiled. "No need to worry
miss, we are very apt at sensing danger."

Are you now?
I let the casting
disappear and then scrambled to my feet as the maid fell to the
floor, unconscious. "Please, sirs," I cried, "the maid has fainted.
She needs a healer!"

The two men glanced at one another and I made
myself shrill. "You must take her! I can escort Lady Sybil to her
chambers!" The maid was young and pretty. I hoped one of them had a
soft spot for the girl, enough to leave their baroness' side.

"It's okay, Red, you can take Mila – Tamora
and I will be fine." Lady Sybil's voice was calm and authoritative.
I felt a wave of guilt. Her sympathy for her servants would
ultimately lead to her demise.