The Caravan Road (36 page)

“Two display rooms are possible in the front at first, so that we could sell the goods I brought from Avonellene to get rid of them, while starting the hat business on the other side.  Then when my trinkets are gone, we’ll use it all for hats and clothing,” Alfred proposed.

Back downstairs they negotiated with the son of the property owner, who was startled by the speed of the offer, but willing to agree to a price of fifty five guilders on his mother’s behalf.  With a deposit made in good faith, the three refugees walked away pleased with the outcome and looking forward to formalizing the purchase the following day.  They rode their horses back towards the country estate, relaxed in the mid-afternoon sun.  “I cannot believe that four days ago we were in the mountains in winter, and now here we are back in civilization in springtime,” Salem said after an interlude of silence.  “Thank you Alec,” she added.

Salem,” Alec knew he had to bring up a painful subject in order to pursue the next part of his strategy to retake control of Woven for the displaced ruler’s family, “describe your husband to me.”

“He was thoughtful,” Salem began.

“No, I mean physically – how did he look?” Alec clarified, knowing how trying this moment was about to become for the widow.  “I want to hear what his face looked like.”

“He had black hair, black as midnight,” Salem told him.  Her eyes were closed as she accessed the memories she cherished.  “He had an average forehead; his hairline hadn’t receded at all, and his eyebrows were thin, but dark, and they each had a funny little curve at the end.

“He had a nose that was a tiny bit crooked, because of something when he was a child,” she added.

“Crooked to the left or the right?” Alec asked.

“To, the, left,” each word came out with a pause.  “There was a mole on his right cheekbone, and he had a strong chin, and a wide smile but thin lips.  And his ears were small, and very fine,” she completed the inventory and opened her eyes.

“How did I do?” she asked.

“Very well done,” Alec said gently.  “Spoken with love, I can tell.”

“Tonight, my plan is that the ghost of your husband shall appear to Trayma, and begin to haunt him.  Trayma will go crazy with fear, and will weaken the support he has in the city among the court and the army by saying foolish things.”

“Tell me, I know this is going to be hard, but tell me, do I look like your husband?” Alec asked, as he covered his face with his hands and adjusted his Healer energy to change his face, making the easy changes to his hair color and his eyebrows, then spending more minutes as they rod
,
e focusing the power more delicately to adjust his nose and widen his mouth.  He removed his hands and looked at Salem’s face, as she starred at him.

“Oh Coden,” she moaned the words.  “I miss him so much,” she said softly.  “The eyebrows are not quite right, but probably no one will notice that besides me.”

“Salem, who are Trayma’s strongest allies?  Who does he rely on among the nobles?” Alec asked.

She looked at him oddly. 

“I plan to sow dissension and mistrust; I would hope that he and his supporters will quarrel and fight among themselves, so that your path to restoration is simpler.  Tell me who we need to split Trayma from,” he explained.

“The Keeper of the Gardens is Lord Quisel.  His title comes from Exbury, but his estates are within Woven,” she said.  “He disliked Coden’s ruling on taxes on his land, and so he supported Trayma.  And Bened is the head of the Palace Guard, and he turned against Coden.  I never knew why.”

“Here,” Alec halted his horse, and climbed out of the saddle.  “Tell me how to find the palace,” he asked Salem.

“If you can find you
r
way back to where we had lunch,” she began, and Alec nodded, “go on to the great circle, and go right, up a hill.  The Palace will be ahead of you, impossible to miss.”

“And where would Trayma sleep?” he asked.

“The residences are on the third floor, mainly on the south side of the building,” she told him.

“Take my horse.  I’ll be back in the morning to see you again,” Alec told her.  “Take good care.”  He turned to Alfred.  “Tell
Stacha
to exercise her sewing muscles; we’re about to put her in business!” he smiled at them both, then began walking back towards town.

Salem sat atop her horse, motionless, watching Alec’s back as he walked away, while she pictured in her mind the face he had adopted.  Alfred twice tried to gently call her attention to her horse, but at last took her reins as well as the reins for Alec’s horse, and guided them towards the estate they were staying at.  Moments later Salem shook herself back to awareness, shot a silent glance of appreciation at Alfred, and resumed directing her horse on her own.

Alec in the meantime continued to walk on his own course, headed back to the city to become the ghost who would haunt Trayma off of the throne.  He used his Light energy to make himself invisible once he entered the city, and wended his way towards the palace, leaving puzzled passersby who felt the occasional jostling or bump as he left them in his wake, though they saw nothing to explain their experience.

Before sunset he was standing in front of the palace gates, observing the flow of traffic and the patterns of the guards.  When a pause in the number of people entering the palace provided an easy opportunity, Alec slipped invisibly within the gates, and then stood unmolested before the entry to the main building in the palace grounds.  He slipped around to the side of the building until he found an unattended door that he could open unobserved.  He walked about inside, listening to voices and conversations, and wandered towards the rooms where official activity was carried out.

He quickly noted a room with closed doors and guards stationed outside the door.  He walked close to the door and listened to the indistinct voices inside; many men were speaking to one another in a meeting of some sort.  Alec retreated down the hall to a distance of twenty feet from the guards, where a decorative chest stood against the wall.  He pulled a drawer out of the chest forcefully, letting it fly and drop to the polished marble floor, before it slid all the way to the opposite wall of the hallway. 

One guard jumped in surprise, and both of them stared at the drawer suspiciously, until one of them went to it, inspected it, then pushed it back into place in the chest.  Alec waited until he was back in his position, then tugged on a second drawer and caused it to mimic the first.  Both guards left the doorway to examine the mystery of the animate drawers, and Alec took advantage of the opportunity to open the unattended doors, pulling both door handles at once; he knew he would not be able to open the doors unnoticed, so
he created a gust of wind
to blow about the room
as he stepped
inside
, unseen by anyone inside or out.  He slunk aside and placed his back against a wall as the guards outside the room scrambled back to their station to shut the doors hurriedly, sealing Alec within the room he wished to observe.

He looked at the oval table around which seven men sat, while three guards stood in the room, providing security for Trayma as he sat at the head of the table listening to a report on the crystallizing process.  It was the very topic the usurper had used to justify taking the throne, Alec remembered, by creating a glittering city of crystals.

“The latest supply of crystals is growing in size, now up to a half inch in diameter,” one man was reporting, holding his head low.

“A half inch!” Trayma thundered.  “We need crystals a foot or two feet, a yard long!  A half inch is laughable.  And we need crystals that don’t dissolve in the rain.  Has that worthless wizard figured that out?” the ruler lashed out.

“Why isn’t he here to report these things in person?  He’s a coward – that’s why!” Trayma added.  “This meeting is over.  Tell the magician to come make the report in person, and to make it favorably.  I want what I was promised.  That’s what I need if I’m going to keep this deal going; otherwise the magician may just disappear under magical circumstances,” he threatened.

The others at the table scurried up and away, leaving the room with hasty relief, and Trayma sat at the table alone momentarily.  The guards watched the others file out of the door, walking forward to escort them and secure the entrance until Trayma was ready to leave.  Alec took advantage of the opportunity to bound over to the table, directly across from the usurper.  Checking that the guards had their backs turned, Alec, appearing as Coden, released his shield of invisibility, suddenly appearing to Trayma across the table.  The man gasped audibly, his eyes widened, and Alec raised his arm silently to point directly at Coden, then wrapped himself in invisibility again, disappearing from view and stepping quickly aside, away from the table.

“Guards!  Guards!  A ghost!” Trayma practically squealed, his voice emitting at a high pitch as he called the attention of the guards.  They turned immediately at the tone of panic they heard in the ruler’s voice.

All three came thundering towards the table, swords drawn.  “What is it, my liege?” one guard asked as he stood at Trayma’s shoulder.

“Did you see it?  Did you see him?” Trayma asked.  “Right here, at the table, just now, in this room,” he sputtered the disconnected phrases, looking up at the guards, then around the room.

The three guards exchanged glances and shrugs.  “We saw nothing,” their leader said flatly.

“You didn’t see Coden?  You didn’t see his ghost, standing right here?” Trayma asked, standing now and looking at all their faces.

“No, my lord,” all three said simultaneously.

Trayma pushed rudely through them and walked around the table to stand in the precise spot Alec had stood in when visible.  The usurper looked around the room again, seeing nothing amiss, then looked at the guards, realizing belatedly that his story was unconvincing.  “Forget this,” he said in a too-careless tone.  “Let’s get on with the day.  I need to see the finance minister.

“Escort me to the throne room, and send for Coompance.” He directed, then headed towards the door as his men fell into position.  He passed as the doors were held open for him and glanced back at the room one more time, then shook his head and left the room behind, escorted by his guards and by the invisible Alec.

The guards led the way down a hall and downstairs to the throne room, a massive chamber with ornate draperies and candlelit chandeliers.  The room was empty upon their entry, and Trayma marched up to the throne, turned and began to sit down, then hesitated momentarily, before he lowered himself into the chair.  Alec stood directly in front of the chair, and as the guards maneuvered into position, Alec flickered into view of Trayma for just a second, then disappeared.

“There!  Here!  Right here!” Trayma shrieked again as Alec backpedaled away from the throne.

Both guards that were with him, neither of them more than ten feet away, drew their swords again and looked around the room.

“He’s here, right here in this room.  I just saw him!”  Trayma shouted in fear and fury.  “He appeared for half a second!  Are you blind?” he practically spit the words out at the guards as other guards from the doorway looked inside the room.

“We saw nothing my lord, and we’re right here with you,” one guard hesitantly answered.

“You’re right here and you’re good for nothing,” Trayma muttered, then carefully lowered himself back into the throne, looking watchfully in all directions.

Moments later the doors opened and a man carrying a large, leather-bound book entered the room.  “Coompance, what good news can you give me?  I need to hear something positive,” Trayma practically shouted at the finance minister.

The new entrant to the room gave a heavy sigh.  “My lord, we continue to spend extravagant amounts of money on the magician’s project, and we have spent heavily to maintain the extra guards you’ve brought into the palace’s service.  Our cash reserves are continuing to dwindle rapidly,” the accountant told Trayma.  “If you cut off the magician, we should be able to afford the additional guards for another six months before your creditors are going to start to cut off further lending.”

“The creditors are not the issue,” Trayma replied.  “Your accounting is the issue, and the incompetent magician is the issue.  You must have my permission from now on before you grant any further funds to him.  Now go and re-examine the treasury and only bring me positive news,” Trayma commanded the downtrodden financier, who obediently bowed and left the room.

Trayma’s reign was clearly troubled, Alec was glad to learn.  The marquis sudden rose to his feet.  “I need to leave this gloomy place.  Find my steward, and tell him to cancel my dinner with the nobles from Stanless tonight.  I’ll have dinner served in my chambers, and tell the steward to arrange for a companion as well.”  Trayma’s face was hardened as he made his demands and watched one of his guards obediently leave to carry the message.

Alec moved towards the front of the room again, and grabbed a small pebble from the floor as he did.  He tossed the pebble towards the right side of the guard, who turned at the distraction, giving Alec time to expose his presence once again to Trayma, only five feet away this time, as Alec stared at him with Coden’s eyes squinted in a hateful gaze at the usurper.  After two seconds he disappeared, before Trayma had even opened his mouth in shock once again.  “He’s here!  He’s here.  In the name of your mother, tell me that you saw Coden’s ghost just now, right here,” Trayma grabbed the guard’s shoulder, as Alec stepped back.