[This part of the story begins about nine years after the war, and about fourteen years after the rogues arrived in Uslar.]
The rain was cold, stinging Gerald as he sat, lashed into his chair, at the stern of the small boat. The wind howled over the boat, driving it furiously forward. He craned his neck around and looked behind him. Lightning flashed back there, over the distant land. He hoped it would stay there and not get any closer. Lightning on land was very dangerous. Lightning at sea was even more dangerous. Lightning in the air, well, Gerald did not want to think about that.
He was a hundred feet in the air, measuring from a flat sea. This sea was far from flat, with waves rising a third of the way up to his boat. He was confident that his magical skills would keep the boat at a constant hundred feet in the air. He doubted any waves would come up that high. However, he knew he had no defense against lightning.
The day had been clear and sunny in Spilsby when he first floated the craft aloft. He had checked his supplies of food and water, all safely secured along the sides of the hull. He kissed his wife, Doris, goodbye, waved to his cheering students, and did the magical feat that made the boat rise into the air. The storm didn’t even begin to show itself until mid-afternoon, when he was far off over the ocean.
He couldn’t go back. Wind in the sail was his only way to move the boat, despite his magical abilities. The wind came with the storm, and pushed him farther and farther from his home. He hadn’t expected it to be so cold high in the air, and hadn’t put on a heavy coat when he saw the storm coming. Now he didn’t dare unlash himself to put on something warmer.
He shivered and tried to control the sudden fear he felt because of the storm. Slowly he began to calm down and think about his circumstances.
I need to get control of my mind. A wizard needs a clear mind. A wizard needs to control his mind, so he can control things around him. I’m a wizard. I’ve been well trained. I can do this. All right, I feel more in charge of myself. What’s next? I need warmth. I can fix that.
He had built a little cabin at the stern of the boat, open faced but deep enough to keep the rain out as long as the wind was from behind. A small box of compacted air served as a fire pit for cooking and warmth. He pulled some bits of kindling from under the thwart he was seated on and built a fire, feeling better as he got warm.
The wind was blowing hard, driving the boat at a great speed, but he didn’t know exactly which direction he was going. He wanted to discover a new continent somewhere out in the great ocean. No one had ever heard of or seen of any continent beyond Orilon, their home. Gerald was certain there was at least one other, but he didn’t know where it might be.
“Orilon is the only continent we know,” Kenneth, a scholar in Spilsby, had told him. “There is no record of any other continents, but we scholars are firmly convinced that others must exist. We have made complex calculations of the size of Sarpala, and there is too much surface area left over after allowing for the size of Orilon.
“But this is just educated speculation. Or a wild guess, your choice. No one has ever gone to another continent and come back. There are stories of adventurous men who sailed off into the oceans, looking for a new land. The only ones who ever returned were those who found nothing and turned back. The others might have been sunk by a storm, or an unknown reef. They might have run out of food and starved. They might have found land, and found it to be hostile. They may have failed on their return voyages. We can’t know.”
“I studied for a while with Ben the wizard,” Gerald disclosed. “He told us one day how he found the Treatise, the most important book of wizardly learning. He said he met a dragon and talked to it. It was while they were talking, that Ben found the book. In their discussion, the dragon mentioned he had originally come from another continent. Ben told us its name, but I don’t remember it. He said when the dragon left, it flew off to the east.”
East. The storm’s pushing me eastward very fast Should I be going straight east, a little to the north, a little to the south? I don’t know, and can’t tell my course anyway. A man long ago who failed to find land and returned said he had sailed east for three weeks before turning back. I can go faster in the air than he could go in water, but I won’t find land too soon. Settle down and wait. And sleep.
***
Gerald was not a dreamer, he was a wizard. No, that’s not accurate. He was a dreamer and a wizard. He knew how to float things in the air, and the weight of the boat was only a minor inconvenience. He had floated himself, and himself and as many as two friends at once. He understood magic well enough to know the effort to float the boat in the air was a short-term effort. Then, once floated, the boat would stay aloft indefinitely.
Gerald was a wizard in Spilsby, a town on the coast of Gorbal, on the eastern edge of Orilon. He had been born there, the youngest son of a small leather merchant. A scholar named Anders, from the county capital of Immingham, passing through Spilsby, had seen him floating scraps of leather in front of his father’s shop. Years earlier his Temple had bought a Treatise on magic and a grimoire. He had been interested in learning to do magic, but not enough to study hard. Still, every once in a while he would open the grimoire and look at the skills listed. Floating things was one of them.
Anders had made a deal with Gerald’s father, Leon. He would pay for Gerald’s instruction as a wizard, and Gerald would repay him in time with some marvelous magical device. Leon had three sons and barely enough work for two of them. Sending Gerald away was always his plan, and this sounded interesting.
Magic had gone from a myth to a wild reality in so few years that even Ben had been unprepared for the demand for instruction. Ben had once said, facetiously, that he wanted wizards to become as common as stray dogs in every village, town, and city of Orilon. He was joking, of course, and there were way more stray dogs than wizards, but the number of wizards was growing. Almost all large cities had a wizard in residence, as did many towns. Villages still had to do with just stray dogs.
Gerald’s magical education had begun in Olpe, at Duncan’s new school. After a few years there he had gone to the great mother-school in Uslar, to study with Ben. His wife Doris was a wizard, too, who had first studied at Pondalon’s school in Rethem, Meruno. They had met at Ben’s school in Uslar, impressed each other, and married. They had returned to Spilsby to open a school, and to show his family and friends that he could earn his living with a marvelous new skill.
His idea of finding a new continent was only slightly crazy. His method of flying a boat through the air, instead of through the water, was not original, but no wizard had ever planned to go so far. He had planned for his return, at least. He had erected half of a portal in the courtyard of his school. The other half took up a lot of space in the boat, ready to be set up in the new continent. He even had an escape plan if he ran out of food after several weeks. He could float the boat down to the sea, on a calm day, of course. After dismissing the floating feat, he could raise the doorway in the boat, and just walk back home.
Every day he scanned the horizon for any sign of land. A slight shadow that might be land far off. A hint of a cloud, hovering over land. Land based birds flying out to sea. Duncan had trained him thoroughly in distant vision, so he was able to see things out to the horizon as if they were only a couple of miles away. This made it easier to distinguish small low-lying clouds from land, but he still couldn’t see over the horizon.
His life became very dull. It was tedious to look forward for land that refused to appear. Loneliness became a problem, too. He had been able to mind speak with Doris for several days,, but it became harder as he traveled farther east. He had a copy of Ben’s book New Uses for Old Magic which he had received just before leaving Spilsby. Reading it occupied his time and his mind, and he was impressed again by how so many new wizards were finding variations on the old feats.
***
He had been flying along for a full week, ten days, when he shifted his look from straight ahead. He was shaking his head to clear the eye strain of constant staring, and glanced by chance to his right. A pimple poked above the horizon, way to the south. He knew from the height of the sun during the day that he had been drifting south ever since he started.
Is that a hint of a mountain? I can’t see anything straight ahead. The wind is slacking off, and I won’t lose sight of that blip very soon. I should nap and strain my distant vision to the extreme when I’m rested.
He put himself to sleep for three hours, waking rested and eager to search for the possible mountain. He looked to the south and pushed his distant vision feat as hard as he could.
There it is! Definitely a mountain! So far away, though. And I can’t steer this boat through the air. The rudder is pretty useless out of water. How can I get there? I’m a wizard. I can travel magically. I just have to think this through, and not miss any steps in my planning.
He thought about the problem, then filled his pack with food, slung his water skin over his shoulder, and grabbed the doorway for the portal. He lowered the boat to the sea and dismissed the floating feat. He had lost sight of the mountain by dropping from his high place. Holding the doorway in his hands, he floated up again to where he could see the mountain. Focusing on the small image, he did a magical jump to the mountain.
A jump to someplace he’d never been before was always risky. He didn’t know what the ground would be like, or if there was any danger to avoid immediately. He could see a vague, foggy image of his destination, but there was little detail. A canyon could look just like a ditch. Was there a swamp looking like a field?
He found himself on the side of the mountain, on a sloping meadow. Looking up, he saw the mountain was quite large, towering far into the sky. Turning around, he could see the ocean even farther down below. It was a dry day, sunny, and warm. There were no clouds around the mountain’s peak, or anywhere in sight. He opened his pack and had lunch.
He noticed his jump disk at the bottom of the pack. He had brought it along as a backup to the portal. If something happened to the portal after he returned home, he could always focus on the jump disk and come back. Ben had showed him some of the original jump disks, the size of dinner platters. His was the size of his hand, much more portable and easier to use. The jump disk also meant he didn’t have to remember his way if he wandered too far from the portal. He could always jump back.
As he ate, he looked about at the meadow and the mountain. There were trees farther down the slope, possibly a forest. He could see no sign of a town, or even a farm. He turned up his distant vision again and examined the distant coast. No indication of habitation at all. He might as well set up the portal where he was, then, and put the jump disk next to it.
The doorway stood upon two wide “feet,” boards that stuck out in front and behind it. He had long stakes and a mallet, and he hammered the stakes through holes in the boards to anchor it in place. Now a strong wind wouldn’t knock it over.
Time to start exploring a little. If I go home right away, people will ask me what the new continent looks like. I should have something to tell them. So, up the mountain? Down the mountain into the woods? Around the mountain to left, or right? Down, I think. The woods look a little thinner over that way.
He had walked perhaps three hundred yards and had almost reached the treeline when he heard a noise from behind, and above, him. He turned around and looked back, and up. There was a dragon coming his way.
He had no doubt about what was heading toward him. Ben had showed him a small illusion of a dragon, drawn from life, as he had said. This looked just like the illusion, only much, much larger. And hungrier looking. Gerald looked down the slope at the forest. The trees should keep the dragon out, but he was still a hundred yards from them. The dragon was moving very fast, too fast for him to run to the trees.
Instead, he jumped. Magical travel took an instant, and he was now safe in the woods. So he thought. The dragon seemed surprised at his disappearance, but soon saw him standing between the trunks of some large trees. It landed by them and its head darted toward him, as swiftly and suddenly as a viper striking. Gerald began moving as he saw the dragon nearing the tree line, and jumped behind a trunk just in time to avoid its bite.
Frightened, he jumped back to the portal, stumbling as he landed. Sprawled on the ground, he saw the dragon looking around for his vanished target. Gerald stood and the dragon saw him. It flew straight at him at an amazing speed. Gerald ran through the portal, happy to see the familiar courtyard of his own house. He screamed in pain as he felt the dragon bite his leg. The dragon’s head followed him through the portal, teeth firmly embedded in Gerald’s leg. Then the dragon’s head fell to the ground, loosening its grip on Gerald’s leg, and spilling blood all over the courtyard.
Gerald’s screams brought Doris out of the house. She screamed when she saw him bleeding badly, with a dragon’s head next to him. Students came into the yard as well, shocked at what they saw. One of them, already showing promise of mental strength, ran up and pulled Gerald’s leg entirely out of the dragon’s mouth.
Doris remembered Ben’s words: “Control yourself, control your mind, and you can control everything around you.” She cleared her mind and focused on how to help Gerald. It was hard to do, there was so much blood, there were so many gashes in his leg, he was her husband. She drew a deep breath and looked closely at the mutilated limb.
One artery was severed. It should have been spurting blood like a fountain, but it had already slowed for some reason Doris didn’t know. She had studied medical magic, but even the healers didn’t know everything about the body. She remembered how Tania and Blaise had taught her how to plug the artery temporarily with magic. If Gerald hadn’t lost too much blood already, she might be able to save him.
She worked the old feat Ben had stumbled upon, and put Gerald into a deep sleep. As she looked at the number and severity of his wounds, she realized she needed help. Their school was too new to have students proficient in magical healing. The local healers couldn’t handle wounds like these, either. She needed the experts from Uslar.
“Roger, thank you for pulling Gerald from the monster’s mouth. If you’re calm enough to do that, I need you to go to Uslar and ask Ben, or anyone there, for help. Use the portal to the Temple, and tell them what has happened. Ben, Polly, Tania, Blaise, Joan. Anyone who can help. Hurry, please!”
***
Roger had never been to Uslar before and stepped out of the portal looking around dazed. The Temple was larger than he had imagined, much bigger than Gerald’s shrine. He didn’t know whom to speak to, and didn’t even see anyone until a funny looking man came from the rear of the Temple.
“May I help you?” the man asked. “Oh, my, you’re covered in blood! Have you been badly injured?”
Roger looked at his hands and sleeves, still wet with Gerald’s blood. “No, this blood is from my master, Gerald. He’s in Spilsby, and he was bitten by a dragon. He’s horribly wounded, and Doris said to get Ben or someone to come help her. Do you know where I can find Ben? Please.”
“Easiest job I’ve had all day, or will have, by the sound of it. I’m Ben. Tell me your name, and exactly how badly Gerald is wounded. I’ll get some more help together.” He used mind talk to call others to join them.
“My name is Roger, a student. I don’t know much magic yet. Doris did something to stop the bleeding but she says she can’t do all the healing. He’s got several big cuts into his thigh and shin, and he’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t know if the bone is broken. I moved him out of the dragon’s mouth, but I didn’t notice that. Sorry.”
“That’s fine, lad. I take it the dragon is dead?”
“Oh, yes, it’s just a dragon’s head. Not a whole dragon.”
“Good, let us go across to my house. Allow me introduce you, Roger, to my wife Polly, Tania and Blaise who are local healers and wizards, and the kids. Dan and Lily are mine and Polly’s. The others belong to our friends, and have learned magic with our two. Ah, Vince. Join the party. I’m just getting a change of clothes. We’re going to Spilsby, somewhere in the east, I think, to heal one of my former students. He’s been bitten by a dragon, and the dragon’s head is still there for you to see. You missed the one I talked to and ought to see this one.”
“Why are our kids here?” Jenny asked. “I never minded their learning magic, but what’s this about dragons?”
“Remember Gerald? Last year, I think. He’s found a dragon and had his leg half bitten off. The dragon’s dead, but the head should be worth seeing. All our kids are entering their teens and should start doing more serious magic. Most importantly, they need some good practical instruction in healing nasty wounds. We just don’t get enough people with their legs hacked off to keep in practice. The youngsters can see how we heal serious wounds, and maybe help a bit. You can see the dragon head you missed in Radalis. Fun, educational, and a nice break for all of you. You can all come back home when Gerald is patched up. We senior wizards will stay just to make sure Gerald is fine.”
“A real dragon’s head. No danger. All right, sign me up,” volunteered Betsy. “Can we have some time to pack?”
“Healing waits for no one,” countered Blaise. “The longer his wounds are ignored, the harder to heal them. Ben, can Roger guide us to his master and return for the others? They won’t be needed for the healing anyway.”
“Yes, that will work. You kids have to come with us now. Your parents can pack a change of clothes for you. Let’s go.”
***
The portal brought them to a shrine in Gerald’s school. Roger led them into the adjacent courtyard and introduced them to Sadie, another student. The courtyard was not very large and one side was filled with a broken portal and a dragon’s head. The wizards gave a long glance at the dragon’s head until Ben interrupted them.
“It’s nice, but I’ve already seen one. It’ll still be here when we’ve finished. Come on, we have work to do. Lead us to Gerald, please, Sadie.”
She led them into the house, a small urban villa, two storied, built decades earlier for a modest merchant. Now it was just another rental property to its current owner, a bit small for most people, rather simple, even old-fashioned in its design. The dining room had been turned into a surgery. Gerald lay on his back on top of several sheets. His leg was open and still leaking some blood. Doris looked resolute, but pale and deeply worried. She ran to Ben when he entered the room, and hugged him, and then the others, crying for the first time.
“How long has it been since he was bitten?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know, an hour, two hours, something like that,” Doris guessed.
“Just an hour and a half, mistress,” interjected Sadie. “I had just lit a new candle clock, and that’s all it’s burned down so far.”
“Did you use my artery plug?” Tania asked. When Doris said she had, Tania turned to Blaise.
“Blaise, old friend and teacher, this is a job for you. No one else is as good at healing torn blood vessels. You have the knowledge and the skill. Please take over.”
Blaise pulled a chair over to the table and sat down. He looked closely at the torn leg and the two ends of the ripped artery. He studied them a long time, then looked at the rest of the leg for other major blood vessels that also needed to be repaired. At last he leaned back and spoke.
“Could I get a couple of cushions for this chair? I’m too old to be standing long enough to heal these arteries and veins, and this chair is hard.”
He stood up and let Sadie put some pillows on the chair.
“Ah, that’s better. Now, pour lots of water all over this leg. Ben, back in the days we first met, I wanted to learn magic to help my healing. I couldn’t then. Then Tania learned, right out of the blue, forced by necessity. I took up the studies again, desperately wanting to copy her. More, I saw how much more useful the magic made her as a healer. Healing has been my life since I was a boy, almost. I’ve never bothered with the rest of your magic, good as it is. I just wanted to be a better healer. I am, and I thank you for making me better. Ah, it’s all cleaned out. Now, what have we got here?”
Blaise ignored the major artery Doris had blocked, since it wasn’t bleeding. He began with a vein that was still pouring blood onto the sheets. He held the ends together and waited for his mind to join them up properly. Vein after vein, artery after artery, he worked through all the lesser blood vessels. When he was ready for the main artery he asked Tania to help him.
“When I grab the ends, I want you to undo the plug. Stand back, it’ll probably squirt a lot of blood out when you do.”
It squirted, but he kept his grip on the two pieces and pressed them together. He had to hold them longer, but finally he let go and the artery was whole. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“That’s the first part done. Did you young people understand what I was doing? Hold the pieces together and think them joined up. I know you’ve done clean wounds, and you’ll have more practice with that here. Blood vessels are trickier because you have to be sure they match up properly. You don’t want an artery linked to a vein.”
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Doris noticed. “What can we do about that? I don’t recall any magical feat for replacing someone’s blood.”
“There isn’t one,” Ben admitted. “There isn’t a special feat for what Blaise just did, either. It falls between magic and healing. Only a healer knows the blood vessels. Only a wizard knows how to join them. We can all heal an open cut, even serious ones like these, but we don’t know the internal layout of the body. Enough talk, let’s get back to work. Dan, it’s test time. Tell us how to go about healing this leg. Where should we start?”
“Up here at the top of the thigh. It’s badly ripped, but I think all the flesh is still there. It may take six of us to heal this. We can’t combine our magic, but we can each work on adjacent sections and pace ourselves so we finish together. The rest of the lower leg is still bad, but the wounds are not as large.”
“Very good, Dan,” Tania complimented him. “Your father trained you well.”
Ben, Polly, Dan, Lily, Katie, and Edgar (Vince and Jenny’s children) worked on the upper thigh.
Horace and Betsy’s children, Gavin and Mabel worked on the torn calf. Tania and Doris healed a crack in the shin bone. Blaise had done his part, but sat ready to help if needed.
Two hours after they had started, the healing was complete. Tania, less exhausted than the others, inspected their work and proclaimed it perfect.
“He should keep sleeping to help the internal healing,” she advised, “but I think we’re all done. This was a big job, and everyone worked perfectly.”
Ben looked up to see Vince and the rogues watching from a safe distance.
“Did you see it all? Wasn’t it interesting?”
“I saw you heal my arm,” Vince remembered, “but this was more impressive.”
“I didn’t see you heal me, of course,” remarked Jenny, “no one did, in fact. That may have been greater, but I think all of you are the greatest wizards ever.”
“Thank you, on behalf of all of us,” Ben replied. “I only helped, as did each of the others, including your children. Blaise, I am most grateful for your help and knowledge. I’ve always regretted your decision to learn only the medical parts of magic. I think you could have been a good all-round wizard. But your help today was truly invaluable. Tania may have been able to do what you did, but I couldn’t have. Thank you again.
“For the rest of you, go home. We’re tired. This took a lot of effort, a lot of mental strength. We need to sleep. We also need to keep an eye on Gerald for a few days to make sure the operation worked. Take a look at the dragon’s head as you leave, it’s worth seeing. You kids can go home, too. Get some sleep in your own beds tonight.”
The rogues left, the wizards cleaned up the dining room and went to bed. Roger and Sadie led them to nicely painted guest rooms in Gerald’s house. Noticing Doris was still agitated from the day’s excitement, Ben used his sleep feat on her. As she fell asleep, he used it on the others and himself as well. This never used to affect me. Now I’m glad I learned how to use it on myself, he thought as he drifted off.
***
Ben rose an hour after dawn and looked in on Gerald before getting dressed. His former student was sleeping quietly with a slight smile on his face. Ben considered that a good sign and went in search of clothes and breakfast.
Polly and Doris soon joined him, followed by Tania and Blaise. Sadie brought them freshly baked rolls and jams, fruits, and a local cider. They discussed the surgery and wondered how long Gerald would sleep. After an hour, they decided to check on him, just to be sure he was actually doing well, and not in a coma.
Gerald had chosen the largest room for his bedroom, but it was crowded by the five wizards. The room had also been recently painted, and the window let a pleasant breeze come in. A table and two chairs helped fill the room, and a large wardrobe cabinet stood in one corner.
Gerald was just beginning to stir as they entered his room. He stretched his arms over his head, opened his eyes, and looked down at his leg under the blanket. He stretched it out, flexed it, and smiled. He saw his visitors, and grinned in welcome.
“Ben, I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I distinctly remember having a mangled leg, and it’s not there anymore. Thank you for healing me, master Ben. I know you don’t like that title, but you earned it here again.”
“I was only one of many who healed you,” replied Ben. “Tania, Blaise, Doris, Polly, and all of the older kids from Uslar. It was a big job, and you must praise all of them. Especially Blaise, who connected all your ripped blood vessels. Are you ready to get out of bed and put some weight on that leg?”
“I think so. I’ve never had a serious injury like this before. I remember Joan talking about how you healed her leg, and she walked immediately after. I know your skill is greater now, and I have unlimited faith in it. So, yes, let me have some room to swing my leg off the bed.”
He threw the covers back and shifted his body around. He dangled his leg above the floor for a moment, then set it down firmly. He stood, and his leg held. He laughed with joy and danced around the floor, grabbing Doris and swinging her in his arms. He stopped only to hug Ben, then each of the others in turn. Then he lifted his nightshirt and looked at his leg thoughtfully. He sighed, and lowered the shirt.
“Too perfect,” he complained. “You should have left a trace of a scar. It would have given me a good excuse to talk about the time a dragon bit me. Oh, no! What a horrid memory that is! All I can remember is excruciating pain and terror. I guess the perfect leg is better after all. Can I get some breakfast now?”
They let him bathe and have a good breakfast. He was fascinated by their description of healing his leg. Finally, he had eaten his fill and heard all their tales. Then something crossed his mind.
“Say, what happened to the dragon? You never mentioned it. Who rescued me from it, and how did he manage that?”
“Come out to the courtyard,” Ben ordered. “Here’s your dragon, what’s left of him.”
Gerald’s jaw dropped at the sight of the dragon’s head lying next to the broken portal. The blood had been mopped up, but the head hadn’t been moved. Gerald walked around it, studying it from every angle, amazed that he had survived its bite.
“What happened? How did the dragon die? Who cut its head off? How could anyone cut a dragon’s head off?”
“I’ve thought about that this morning,” Ben told him. “I think we just learned something useful about portals. This portal was broken by the dragon whose body couldn’t fit through. I presume the same is true of the portal at the other end. We know that removing the piece of the door sill interrupts the magic. Breaking the doorway will also break the magic.
“If the dragon flew at you too fast, it wouldn’t be able to stop easily. It didn’t know you were going through a portal, and it stuck its head and neck through the opening. When it hit the portal, it shattered that doorway, and this one. Breaking the magic with its head already through the portal meant that its head and body were now separated by hundreds of miles. Who decapitated the dragon? You did, Gerald, with your portal.”
“That’s incredible!” exclaimed Gerald. “No one’s ever gone through a portal as it was being destroyed, so we couldn’t have expected this to happen. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? We’ll have to warn Walter and Mandy about this. I’ll let their local crew know, and they can pass the word on. I’ll have to see them anyway to get another portal.”
“Are you planning to go back, darling?” asked Doris. “It’s dangerous, you almost got killed. I couldn’t deal with your dying on me like that.”
“I wanted to find another continent, and I did,” replied Gerald. “What good is that discovery if no one can go there? People will call me a liar if I talk about a place no one can visit. I left a jump disk there, so going back won’t be so difficult now. I will be more careful this time, I promise.”
“Ben, can’t you talk him out of this madness?” begged Doris.
“He’s right, you know,” answered Ben. “This is an important discovery. Scholars will delight to explore an entirely unknown land. Wizards will become more widely known for having found this land. Gerald will have more students than he will know what to do with. And it can be done safely with just a little forethought. Give me a moment to do that thinking.”
“They’re both crazy!” Doris complained to Polly. “Has he already forgotten how badly his leg was damaged? Doesn’t he care about me?”
“Calm down, Doris,” urged Polly. “Yes, this is dangerous and you have a right to be worried about Gerald. If Ben thinks it can be done safely, though, then it can be done safely. Let him think out a way to do it.”
“All right, I’ve got it now,” announced Ben. “We use your jump disk and place a new portal there. We immediately build some air walls around it to protect us. Overhead, too, since dragons fly. We can even add a second wall around the first to protect that one. Bring another set of portal doors to give us access to the rest of this new land. Then we can go back whenever we want in perfect safety.”
“Told you so,” gloated Polly.
***
Ben asked Polly to take the portal from Gerald’s shrine back to the Temple, to bring their friends and all their children to see the dragon. It wasn’t his trophy, but he wanted them to see what only he had so far seen, a real dragon.
While she was gone, Ben and Gerald consulted on finding the jump disk Gerald had left behind. He had labeled his jump disk ‘Spilsby 2’ to differentiate it from the one in his house. Ben sought out the disk by name and was glad that Spilsby was not a common name for a town. Too many Rivertons and Fordhams made it difficult to make jumps, even when the disks were numbered.
Jumps were not normally difficult, especially for a strong minded wizard like Ben. However, this was a jump across an unknown distance to Gerald’s vague description of a meadow under a tall mountain. Ben thought for several minutes, mentally searching across the ocean to the southeast. He cast his mind farther and farther out with no success. The disk was small but that made no difference; it’s magic would be like a bright light in the dark. Finally, he sensed it. Beside him, so did Gerald. They could see a vague, foggy image of a meadow with a large lump nearby. They couldn’t tell what the lump was, but the disk was there.
He grabbed the portal half he would set up there and took a deep breath. This would be the longest jump he had ever made. He felt confident, sought out the jump disk again, and focused tightly on it. With a single thought, he jumped, helping Gerald with him. They were in a meadow, sloping down from a tall mountain, just as Gerald had described. What Gerald hadn’t mentioned, but what Ben had expected to find, were the remains of a large dragon. The jump disk was just beyond its outstretched front leg.
Gerald’s portal was now just a lot of splintered wood scattered over the ground. The dragon must have been flying fast when it hit the doorway. Ben was fascinated by the dead beast, but remembered his own cautions. They erected the new portal, driving in stakes to keep it erect in any wind. Then they built an air wall enclosure to surround the portal. They made it large enough to allow Gerald and others to add another portal, and have room to camp. A roof to keep out flying beasts, like dragons, was the final touch.
Ben smiled at Gerald and patted him on his back. “Good work, Gerald. A new continent, and a dead dragon. Quite a day’s work.”
They went back through the portal to Gerald’s school and met Polly and their friends. They all went to the new continent to see what Gerald had discovered. They all looked in wide-eyed amazement at the enormous carcass of the beast. The dragon was impressive, both because of its size, but also because part of it was missing. Something had torn its body open and a large section of its flesh was gone.
After looking all they wanted at the dead dragon, Ben and Polly built another set of air walls, with a roof, around the original set. Nothing would get through both walls, they believed. Another portal connected the inner area to the outside world, so people could go exploring.
Back in Gerald’s school, Ben told his rogue friends they could go home again. He and the healing wizards wanted to stay a few more days to make certain that Gerald was fully healed. There seemed to be no doubt about that, but Blaise insisted it was good healer procedure.
After his friends had departed, the wizards ate a quiet dinner, talking about the day’s activities. The excitement of going to the new land on top of the previous day’s surgery left everyone tired. They went to bed early, with a little magical sleep help.
***
“A dragon!” shouted Worneconto, Count of Gorbal. “Don’t be silly, man! There are no dragons anymore. They’ve been dead for hundreds of years. You shouldn’t go around believing every grandfather’s tale you hear. You’re a grown man, too old to be believing such tripe.”
“Your Excellency, it’s true,” declared Cameron, his seneschal. “I was just in Spilsby and saw the dragon’s head lying in a courtyard of some house. With my own eyes. The streets there are full of the story, though no one seems to know how it got there.”
“Really? How wonderful! I would very much like to put that dragon’s head over the hearth in the Great Hall. Think how marvelous that would be! Every ruler in Orilon would be jealous of me! Send Darrell to me, at once.”
Cameron left in search of the count’s marshal and found him in the guards’ barracks. Darrell broke off the lying contest he was engaged in and went to his master.
“Darrell, Cameron tells me there is a dragon’s head lying in some courtyard in Spilsby. I want you to take some men and bring it here. Don’t let anyone try to stop you. Arrest them if they do, and bring them here, too, for trial. Well, go man, do your work. Cameron can tell you where he saw it. Go!”
***
Ben woke up feeling chilly. He reached for the blanket which should have been covering him and couldn’t find it. He opened his eyes to look for it and saw bare stone walls across the room. He sat up and looked at the bed he was lying on. It wasn’t the comfortable feather bed in Gerald’s house, but a cot with a lattice-work top covered with a straw-filled mattress.
I never realized how inconvenient deep sleep could be. Where am I? Are the others here too? What has happened? And why?
He stood and spotted a door with a small grill at eye level. His clothes had been tossed on the floor by the cot. He dressed and went up to the grill. He looked out and saw a man in scale armor sitting on a stool. He called out to the man, making him look up.
“Where am I? Why am I here? Will you please let me out of this cell?”
“You’re in Count Worneconto’s castle. I don’t know why, I’m just a guard. And no, I will not let you out, no matter how politely you ask.”
“What’s your name?”
“Harvey, what’s it to you?”
“Well, Harvey, it’s easier to talk to someone when I know his name,” Ben declared as he jumped to the outside of the cell. “That’s better. Now, Harvey, are my friends somewhere here, too? Will you show me where they are? Please, because manners do matter.”
“Hey! How did you get out of there?” Harvey shouted, standing and drawing his sword. “You’d better get back in that cell! Right now! I’m serious. Move!”
“All these silly orders, and you haven’t even answered my polite questions. Please put away that sword. It won’t do you any good, and it does make me angry. Oh, wait. If you’re just a guard and don’t know why I’m here, you probably don’t know who I am either.
“I’m Ben, and I’m a wizard. Don’t worry. I’ve never actually turned anyone into a toad. However, I would like to find my friends. I also want to speak to your master. So, first of all, where are my friends?”
“Look, I’m the guy with the sword,” warned Harvey, “so don’t go talking like you can do something to me. Everybody that came with you is here, in these cells. Satisfied? Now, get back into your cell.”
“That was only the first part of my request. I now need to talk to this Count Worneconto of yours. Please bring me to him immediately.”
“I said, I’ve got the sword, and you don’t. You don’t give orders to me. I give orders to you, and I order you to get back in that cell.” To emphasize his point, he waved the sword in Ben’s face. Ben looked at the sword’s hilt and made a small flame appear next to Harvey’s thumb. Soon Harvey yelled and dropped his sword, swearing loudly.
“All right, now you don’t have the sword,” Ben pointed out, “and you won’t have it again unless I want you to have it. Now, take me to Worneconto and don’t waste any time about it.”
Ben looked as threatening as his silly face would allow, while searching mentally for the other wizards. Only Polly had awakened yet, so he told her what had happened, and asked her to inform the others when they awoke. He pointed his hand toward the stairs going to the lower levels of the castle, and Harvey reluctantly led the way down.
Three floors below, Harvey brought Ben to a large room filled with comfortable furniture. A carved fireplace stood at one end, with a wide, heavy table in front of it. Smaller tables stood elsewhere about the room. The windows were half covered by dark, aged curtains, unwashed in years. A tall man with medium length white hair rose from a chair behind the table and glared at Harvey and Ben.
“Who is this man, and why are you bringing him to me? I didn’t send for him.” The old man snarled his questions, and Harvey visibly cowered before him,.
“Excuse me, Your Excellency, this is one of the prisoners from Spilsby. He says he’s a wizard and wants to speak to you, please, sir.”
“If he’s one of the prisoners from Spilsby, then of course he’s a wizard. They’re all wizards at the wizard school. Why should I care if he is? Take him back to his cell, and be sure to lock him in well.”
“Your Excellency...” Ben began to say.
“Silence! Not a word from you. Your trial will be tomorrow. That will be soon enough to hear from you and your kind. Take him away!”
Harvey led Ben back up the stairs to his cell and locked him in.
“Be sure to go back down and tell your master that I’m properly locked in,” Ben told Harvey.
Harvey picked up his sword from the floor and started walking back down the stairs. Ben waited until he had passed out of sight before leaving his cell again. He asked the others to come out. All did except Gerald who was still sleeping. Ben asked Blaise and Doris to go into Gerald’s cell to watch over him. Then he told the others he had to leave to beat Harvey back to the count’s study.
In a flash Ben was standing in front of Count Worneconto again.
“What, you again! How did you get here? Didn’t that oaf lock you up?”
“Oh, yes, and I asked him to come down and tell you he did. I just didn’t give him time enough to get down here. I am a wizard, and no one can lock up a wizard. I want to know why you’ve brought us here. I demand that you release us immediately.”
“Oh, you demand, do you? I am Count Worneconto, ruler of Gorbal, and I give the orders in this county. You will do as I say, or you…. Harvey! Why can’t you do your job properly? Take this man back to his cell, bring five more guards with you, and make sure this time that he and the others stay there! If you fail again, I’ll have you whipped. Do you understand?”
Harvey led Ben back upstairs again, stopping to pick up Toby, his sergeant, and four other guards. At the top of the tower, they found Polly and Tania standing in the open space in front of the cells. Harvey pushed Ben into his cell, and locked the door. He looked through the grill to make sure Ben was still there. Ben smiled at him, sending mental messages to the other wizards about a new game to play.
Toby opened the next cell for Polly, and found Ben standing there, smiling. Tania and Polly had now disappeared, replaced by Doris and Blaise. Harvey looked into Ben’s cell and saw Polly. Tania called out to them from Gerald’s cell. Toby shoved Blaise into an empty cell and locked it. Opening the next one for Doris, Blaise came out.
The guards tried to put their prisoners into cells, any cells, but without any success. The wizards had picked up on Ben’s mental suggestion, and were hopping from cell to cell, out into the open area, and down the stairs.
***
Roger used the portal to return to Uslar. He knew where to go this time, and went directly to Ben’s house. Horace saw him and greeted him, asking how things were going.
“The count has had them all arrested and taken to his castle while they slept,” announced Roger. “He also took the dragon’s head, and threatened to lock all of us students up. Can you do something to rescue Ben and the others from the count?”
“Rescue Ben?” Horace roared with laughter. “Rescue the count from Ben is more like it. Ben’s an experienced wizard with a highly inventive, and playful, mind. Ah pity any man who dares to mistreat Ben, or Polly. But, yes, we’ll gather our forces and ride to Ben’s rescue. Give us a little time for me to tell the others, and for us to git armed and armored. One hour should be enough. Have a seat and wait.”
“Vince, we need to git Ben,” Horace told his friend in their living quarters. “He’s been grabbed by the count out in Gorbal. One of his wizards is here to git help. Ah reckon the four of us, and the older kids kin handle this well enough.”
“Do you really think our kids, even the older ones, are ready for a real fight?” Vince asked. “They’re all eleven and twelve. They don’t have adult strength, or agility.”
“They have the same armor we do,” Jenny replied, coming into the room. “The same training we’ve all had. They don’t need to have my agility, because Ben’s trained them, too. Dan was only eight when he beat me in a fight by “jumping” to my blind side. Magical movement is better than agility. Dan has taught all the other kids his trick. Yes, they are young. I don’t think there’ll really be any need for them, but we weren’t so very much older when we started out. And if we do need help, who else is there?”
An hour later, ten men and women in mail walked into the lobby of the mansion. Two of the younger ones carried extra mail, and spare weapons, including a spear.
“We’re all ready, Roger,” declared Jenny. “You know, kids, we’ve practiced for years, but this may be your first real fight. Are you excited?”
“You notice she didn’t ask if we were worried,” observed her daughter Katie to Edgar. “Of course, she knows who trained us.”
Travel was simpler with portals, but not instantaneous. Across the road from the mansion to the Temple. By portal to Gerald’s school. Down some streets into the center of Spilsby to another portal that took them to the capital, Immingham. Down some more streets to the count’s castle. Halfway across the continent in little more than half an hour.
Inside the tower, the guards had retreated to the top of the stairs. The prisoners were still popping in and out of the cells however they wanted. They were quiet for a time when Gerald woke up. Then he joined in their game.
Ben talked to the others and showed them an empty bowl from his cell. He carved an “M” for magic on it, and told them it was their new jump disk. He jumped down to the count’s study, placed the bowl on a small table, and addressed the count.
“Your Excellency, I do insist that you release me and my friends at once.”
Count Worneconto growled, drew his dagger, and ran at Ben. Ben disappeared. A moment later, Polly popped out of nowhere, with the same demand. One by one, the other wizards did the same. Count Worneconto became increasingly angry as the game continued.
“Gerald, do you feel strong enough to jump down to the study?” Ben asked. “You’ve had a couple of exciting and tiring days.”
“Oh, I feel great, Ben.”
“Good, we’re having some fun with your count,” Ben told him. “We could leave anytime we want now that you’re awake. However, I have taken a great dislike to this count. He is harsh. He snarls too much. I want to play games with him. Go on, then, take your turn.”
Ben’s next visit to the study showed him a room filling with men at arms. Some of them tried to grab him as he made his appearance, but he flitted away just as fast as he had come. Upstairs, he halted Polly from going again. He wanted to think of a new way to torment the count, when he heard a voice in his mind.
Hi Dad. Horace says we have to rescue this count from you. Or is it the other way around? We’re all outside the castle. We have your armor and weapons. Where do you want us to go?
“The whole gang has showed up to end our fun,” chuckled Ben. “Dan just sent me a thought message to say they’re all outside. He wants to know where to meet us. They have our armor, Polly, so they should come up here. We can get into the mail and then we can all go down to the study together. We can leave now, but I want to give this count a good piece of my mind first.”
***
Count Worneconto was still furious. Two dozen men at arms filled his study and he hoped they wouldn’t damage anything in it. He was happy the wizards had stopped appearing and disappearing. Then he began to worry if they were still in the castle, or had gone somewhere else.
“Harvey, go back upstairs and make sure those prisoners are still here in….”
Mid-sentence, twelve armed and armored figures appeared in the middle of the study, surrounding four unarmed wizards.
“Count Worneconto, it has been fun playing our little games with you and your men,” admitted Ben. “However, Gerald has awakened and is ready to go home. So we will take our leave of you and your horrible hospitality.
“Do not try to stop us. Twelve of us are highly trained fighters, better than any you command. Twelve of us are highly trained wizards, and we are capable of more than just playing games with you. We will leave and return Gerald to his school in Spilsby. You will leave him alone. If I hear that any harm has come to him, his family, or his school. I will return. You will not be happy if I come back.”
“Tell him to give us the dragon’s head, too,” added Horace. “Roger told us he stole that, too.”
“You stole the dragon’s head that my friend Gerald risked his life to obtain? Where is it? I want it now!”
“You impertinent rascal! That dragon head belongs to me! Everything in Gorbal belongs to me! You can’t have it. I defy you and your meaningless threats. Go, if you insist, but go empty-handed.”
“Not to worry, Ben,” declared Polly. “I’ve sensed it. It’s in a storeroom off the courtyard, outside that window. We can get it on our way out.”
In a flash, they were in the courtyard. A few minutes later, four wizards carried the dragon’s head to Gerald’s school, and four more carried the non-wizard rogues.
***
“Before we do anything, we should wait a minute, Ben,” cautioned Gerald, standing in his study. “Right now, despite your warning, Worneconto is probably planning how to get that head back, and how to punish all of us for thwarting his will. In his castle, I think he was somewhat intimidated by your appearance. He had two dozen guards, against sixteen of you, and only twelve of you were armed. But your armor looked better than that of his guards, and you showed a lot of self-confidence. He’ll wait and attack when you aren’t here, or are asleep, as he did when he captured us.
“Roger says Worneconto used the portals to take us to his castle. He’ll use them again to get back here. That means he can be here very soon. We should go somewhere else immediately. I just hope he doesn’t destroy our books and other materials out of spite.”
“Do you own this building, Gerald?”
“No, Ben, I rent it from a man who rents out properties to small shopkeepers and the like.”
“Too bad for him. I think your count will be very angry and vindictive when he arrives. Make a sign to tack onto the front door, telling Worneconto who owns the building. That may make him pause before torching the place. Send a servant to this man, offering to pay him for any damage that might happen. Don’t worry, I’ll pay him if it comes to that.
“Then get your students and my friends to put everything of value into sacks. We can take them somewhere else, wherever we’ll be going for safety. Oh, Dan, since the count may get here soon, would you please put an air wall around the whole building? Meanwhile, I will make a present for the count.”
Ben went into the courtyard and looked at the dragon’s head from every angle. He pulled a small table over to him and made a box of air walls, top, bottom, and sides. He floated a large rock from the stone border of a flower bed and placed it in the box for weight. Inside the box he created an illusion of the real dragon’s head around the rock, down to a little spilled blood on the bottom.
After almost an hour they were done. The sacks were full of books, parchment, ink, and quills. Ben’s illusion rested in its air box on the table. Worneconto and his men were pounding on the air wall protecting the outer door to the courtyard, demanding to be let in.
“We’re all set, Gerald, so where do we go?” asked Ben. “We could go to Uslar, but I don’t want to give up the fight for Gorbal. Someplace Worneconto won’t come looking for us.”
“What about the swamp?” asked Sadie.
“Where’s that?” asked Gerald.
“Near my village, about twenty miles south of here. There was a baron who had a castle in this valley. A couple of hundred years ago there was an avalanche and the river that flowed through the valley was blocked and made a lake. Later some of the water found a new way out of the valley, but a lot of the water still fills a swamp there. The baron abandoned his castle and built another elsewhere. But the walls are still there, and it stands out of the swamp. The walls would hide us from view, even if someone did come looking there, which is unlikely.”
“Can you jump, you know, travel magically?” asked Polly.
“No, I’ve only just opened the school,” confessed Gerald. “They’re still learning the Treatise. They can do some of the easy feats from it, but that’s all.
“Edgar, please jump home and bring us a portal. Gavin, you’ve inherited Horace’s strength, so you can carry Sadie. Jump about twenty miles south, then fly her around until she sees the swamp. When you know where the castle ruins are, come back and we’ll set up a portal. We can take everything here that way and then remove the portal so the count won’t be able to follow us.”
The noise from outside was growing louder, and angrier. Lily jumped to a spot down the street to watch and came back with the news that the soldiers were trying to dig under the air wall.
Edgar and Gavin returned almost simultaneously.
“My first jump of twenty miles was the right distance, but too far west,” Gavin told them. “Two more minutes of flying and there it was. I’ll take this half of the portal there and set it up now.”
Once the portal was in operation, rogues, wizards, and students carried the sacks full of Gerald’s books and possessions to their new refuge. Four of them came back to carry the real dragon’s head. Ben stayed behind for his last joke. He dismissed the magic making the air wall in front of the door, opened the door wide, grabbed the portal half, and jumped to where Polly was.
Seeing the door open, Worneconto felt for the air wall and discovered it was gone. He and his men rushed in to find an empty building. They had nothing except a note tacked to the door, giving the name of the owner, and asking that the building be spared for his sake. Nothing else. Except for a dragon’s head in some sort of see-through case.
“There’s nothing in the building, anywhere,” Toby told the count. “Even the pantry is empty. No books, no personal belongings, just some tables and chairs.”
“That’s fine. What I want is right here. The dragon’s head.” He tried lifting the box, but it was heavy. “Too heavy to take with them, I guess. Strange that they left this, the one thing I really wanted. The whole point of all this arguing. I don’t care, I’ve won. I feel so good I’m almost willing to spare this building. No. Why would I want to do them a favor? Toby, have some of the men take the dragon’s head back to my castle, then burn this place down.”
***
The baron had called it his castle, but it was just a large manor house, surrounded by high walls. The walls were still there, mostly. The manor house had collapsed at some distant date. There was plenty of space for the refugees to make camp, though. Ben counted heads and came up with eighteen in the party. Spread out to sleep comfortably, and with some privacy, they would take up a lot of the open space. He decided to just put an air roof over the whole bailey.
Sadie had guided Lily and Katie to the village where they bought more supplies. Gavin built an air box for the books and other fragile items. Vince and Horace dug a fire pit and chopped old timbers into kindling. Mabel took her bow, jumped into the nearby woods, and came staggering back with a doe.
While the rogues dressed and prepared the doe for cooking, Ben took all the wizards and students aside to show them how to do the preservation feat.
“Let me begin by building a small table with air walls. Move that head over here onto the table. When we finish, the head will be preserved, but not attached to anything, since we can dismiss the air walls without harming the preservation effect.
“This is a difficult feat because the wizard has to think of so many things at once. Grarnihorn preserved his entire castle, which shows you how strong a mind he had. This is smaller, and has fewer parts to preserve, so it will be easier.
“Begin by picturing in your mind just what you need to do. The whole dragon’s head. All the small scales, the few larger ones on the neck stub. The teeth, the eyes, the skin. Thinking about all the parts helps to focus on the complete piece.”
Preserving a large, complex object took time, more time when Ben had to explain what he was doing at every step. Starting by thinking of the whole shape, then adding this detail, then that detail, then this other detail, all while remembering the first details. At last, he described the mental process to preserve what he had in his mind. He paused in silence while he performed the feat. Then he heaved a sigh of relief.
“Your dragon’s head is now totally preserved, Gerald.”
“Thank you, Ben. You’ve been so good to me these last couple of days. I knew you were a great wizard, but to hold all those details in your mind without losing any, and then discuss what you were going to do, before you did it, without losing track of any of the details. I’m stunned. I couldn’t do that.”
“You’re a young wizard yet. In a few years, practicing this and other feats, you’ll be able to do the same without thinking about it. You’ve heard the stories of my first big magical feats, when I didn’t really know any magic. I passed out both times, once for two days. You’re impressed by this. I’m impressed by Grarnihorn doing his whole castle. Doing it twice, in fact, because he didn’t do it right the first time. That was a wizard with serious mental abilities.”
After dinner Gerald explained the politics of Gorbal. He had stretched out full length near the fire pit. The others were sitting or lying on the ground all about him.
“Count Worneconto has ruled Gorbal for over thirty years,” Gerald told them. “Rumor says he killed his own father to become count. That’s not certain, though his personality supports the rumors. It is certain that he killed his younger brother, Mandesomion, because he suspected Mandesomion wanted to overthrow him.
“Mandesomion probably didn’t want to, but his son Boltimar definitely does. He’s in exile in Hugh Town, that’s the capital of the Principality of Wilu. The duchies of Hala and Yaralin lie between Wilu and Gorbal, so he thinks he’s safe there. He’s in his mid-thirties, orphaned and outlawed for the last twenty years, and eager for revenge. But he’s not so eager he wants to be killed himself. He is a senior commander in the Prince of Wilu’s army, so he doesn’t need to rush things.
“The people of Gorbal don’t like Worneconto, but recognize him as their lawful overlord. His ancestors have ruled the county since before the Big War. Gorbal is one of the few realms that survived that war. He’s declared that Boltimar has no claim to his throne, despite his lack of other heirs. Worneconto is cruel, arbitrary in deciding legal cases, greedy, always looking to take what belongs to someone else. Like that dragon’s head. Thank you for bringing it back, but I don’t know what I can do with it.”
“You sell it for as much money as you possibly can,” explained Betsy. “We were doing well as rogues, but Ben made our fortunes by selling off his dragon scales. You’ve heard that story, but he doesn’t usually tell how much we earned. It set us up for life, really. He’s earned more from his teaching and magic, but that first pile of money made the rest happen.
“Auction that head off to the highest bidder, and that high bid will be huge. No one’s ever had a chance to own a dragon’s head in hundreds of years. And if Worneconto makes the high bid, sell it to him with a smile on your face. His money is as good as anyone else’s. That’s the rogue way.”
“I can certainly use a bucket of money,” admitted Gerald. “A scholar named Anders from Immingham paid all of my expenses in magic school, both in Olpe and in Uslar. I need to repay his generosity. I also need a lot of money to run this school properly. Some more for Doris and me would be good, too. But you’re assuming Worneconto will let me keep the dragon’s head and auction it off.
“He is a law unto himself, as all the rulers of Orilon are. When I was studying in Uslar, I saw how the king of Taril keeps his nobles in check. A light hand, but a firm one. There is no one to do that for most of the nobility in Orilon. A count or duke who rules his own land has no overlord to make him behave. No reason not to mistreat his subjects. No one to frighten him into a respect for anyone’s property or person.”
“He won’t interfere until the auction is announced,” declared Ben. “He has the illusion and should be satisfied with it.”
“Ben, why did you make that illusion of the dragon’s head and leave it behind?” asked Doris.
“To let Worneconto steal it,” Ben revealed with a grin. “Or, at least what he thinks is the head. I made an illusion of the head and left it for him to take so he would take it. Worneconto will think the air box is just to protect the head, like a case in Grasilos’ museum. He’ll take the whole thing, and not think twice about it. He won’t be able to open the box, but he’ll still think he has the prize. At least until he hears about the auction. That gives us time to arrange the auction in peace and quiet.”
“Where should we hold the auction?” asked Gerald. “This place is too isolated. Safe from Worneconto, but no one else will be able to get here either. In Spilsby? I think that might be too close to Worneconto. He might try to interfere and take the real head.”
“There are lots of good places to choose from,” suggested Ben. “What about the Free City of Garz, on Lake Wamp. It’s next to Biri, Yaralin, and Lasu, and near other realms. Walter and Mandy have pushed their portal network all over this part of Orilon, so buyers can come easily from all over.”
***
The went to Immingham early in the morning, getting to the public portals before any of Worneconto’s men would be looking for them. A few changes of direction through the maze of portal connections and they were in Garz. Dan jumped back to their castle camp and brought back one half of their private portal.
While he was gone, Betsy was busy renting a house for them. It wasn’t fancy, or in very good repair, but it was large enough to hold all of them. Before long everything was safely stored in it. The auction
was scheduled for a month later, at the Temple of Pronustio, to give time for word to spread around Orilon.
News spreads like water poured onto the floor. It goes everywhere, into every corner, every hole, every ear. A week after the announcement, Worneconto was outraged to hear about an auction of a dragon’s head. He knew he had the only dragon’s head in Orilon, right there in his study. He ranted. He roared. He tried to break into the air box. He sent for a wizard to dispel the magic, and was told there were no wizards to be found in Gorbal. He sent men out on the portal network, looking for one of the wizards setting up new portals. After another week, they brought him a young man named Clyde. He finally had a wizard.
“This is some sort of magic box,” Worneconto said roughly to the frightened young wizard who was placed in front of him. “I order you to dispel the magic so I can get at the object inside. You can do this, can’t you?”
“Y-yes, Y-your Excellency, I can,” Clyde stammered. “I’m not a full wizard yet, but I can do this. I’m pretty sure I can.”
“Then do it, and do it right, or I’ll punish you severely.”
The threat did not help calm Clyde’s nerves, nor did the appearance of the dragon’s head, snarling at him in its box. He forced himself to think nice thoughts, composing his mind. He had had only one year of training as a wizard, and the extra instruction Walter and Mandy had given him for his job. He focused on what he had been taught in school. He envisioned the text he had read and read over and over. “The way to dispel any ordinary magic is ….”
He worked the feat, saw no change in front of him, and waved his hand where the box had been. It was gone. He turned to show the angry count that he had succeeded, but Worneconto had already seen. He tossed Clyde a small purse of money and ordered him out. Clyde thanked him humbly, and ran.
Worneconto smiled as he approached the dragon’s head. He reached his hands out to touch it again, and they passed right through it. He stopped, shocked. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He reached out again with his right hand. Nothing there. He could see the head, but he couldn’t feel anything. He had touched it when he first took it.
Why can’t I touch it now? Those wizards! They’ve done something to it! No, they’ve stolen it and replaced it with this fraud! I must have my revenge on them!
“Cameron! Cameron! Where are you, man?” Worneconto called for his seneschal. A portly middle-aged man with a perpetually-harassed look ran into the study carrying a flat box with a sloped top under his arm. He knew his master’s moods and tempers. An angry count meant he would soon be writing a new law.
“Cameron, write up a law forbidding magic in any form, performed by any person, native or foreigner, anywhere within my realm. Make certain it has no loop-holes for sneaky wizards to slip through. I want it ready for my signature by evening. Go, man, get to work!”
Worneconto paced angrily around the room, glaring at the illusion resting on the table in the middle of the room. He wanted revenge on the wizards. They have played me for a fool. They have insulted me, and to my face! They play pranks with imaginary dragon’s heads, just to mock me. I must do more than outlaw their wicked schools. I know! This will hurt them immensely.
“Darrell! You, guard, find Darrell and bring him to me now. Go!”
Wizards, bah, just peasants with inflated ideas of who they are. They should know better than to offend a nobleman. I’m not some village buffoon they can push around. I have an army, and what better way to show them their true place than to loose the army on them and their wickedness.
“Your Excellency, what do you need?” asked Darrell as he entered the room. He never ran, as Cameron always did, because he was Worneconto’s marshal. He commanded the army for Worneconto and felt it was beneath his dignity to run, even at his count’s order. Besides, the seneschal had to hurry to write new laws. Putting the army in the field would always take some time.
“Ah, Darrell, you have seen my prize, my treasure, my dragon’s head. Look at it now. It is a fraud, a fake, an illusion. Those wizards have somehow stolen the real one and left me with this cheap imitation. Cameron is writing up a law, even as we speak, forbidding the practice of magic anywhere in Gorbal.
“But that’s not enough. We must destroy all evidence and trace of wizardry and magic within the county. I want you to send men to every city, town, and village in the realm. Destroy all these portals of theirs. Burn any schools you find. Arrest any wizards you find. Start giving the orders tonight, and begin your work at dawn. Go!
“No! Wait! Give those orders tonight, but tomorrow I want you to plan a raid on Garz. That is where they plan to auction off the real head. I must have that dragon’s head returned to me. I want you to send some competent men to seize it and bring it here. Don’t bother me with the details. I know you can do this and do it well. My only caution is to avoid antagonizing any of our neighbors. Now you may leave.”
***
Ben had once worried that towns might not want portals inside their walls; they might consider them a hole in the town’s defenses. Walter and Mandy learned that some towns felt that way and others preferred the convenience of a portal right in town. This was all theory at first, of course. Once they started building the network of portals the real solution became obvious.
Many towns had just two portals, one to go north, or maybe west. One to go south, or maybe east. Larger towns had more portals, one for every other town they wanted to connect to. Walter and Mandy set up large portals, big enough to allow wagons to pass through. These were too large for most town squares. A pair of portals was no problem, but each additional portal brought more wagon traffic into the center of a town.
Their solution was to set up a group of portals just outside the town. Towns that were concerned about their safety approved, and the others accepted this as a reasonable way to control crowding in the towns. They built a long wall in a field, with portal doorways on both sides, and called it a ‘knot,’ as it connected the parts of their network. Outside the town, with lots of ground around the wall, wagons could easily exit the portals and go through the town gates. It was also very easy to add more portals as they were needed for more connections.
Immingham, the county’s capital, had a large number of portals. There were connections to the main cities and towns of Gorbal, some of the smaller towns, and to places in other realms. The “knot” wall stood just outside the east gate, where there was more open ground and less road traffic.
It was very convenient for Darrell. The first night he had two men go to the knot and steal the wall map showing the places in Gorbal one could reach via the network. Darrell and his senior officers spent a few hours planning their assault on the portal system. In the short time that portals had been in use in Gorbal, Darrell and many others had learned how they worked, and the ease with which they could be destroyed. Break one doorway, and the other was just a doorway, not a portal.
They would use the network to destroy it, using the portals to go to the farthest towns. From each end point, they would use other portals to get to towns that didn’t connect to Immingham. At the very end of a section, they would return one step back and break up the doorway they had just come through. Go through another portal, and destroy it in turn. Repeat as necessary. At some point the warriors would have to march to another target, or back home.
Darrell estimated it would take no more than five days to destroy the network, if everyone did his job efficiently, and there was no local opposition. The last factor was hard for him to judge. He personally liked the portals; they made it easier for his wife to visit her parents in Snaith, almost a week away by horse. However, he knew better than to argue with Count Worneconto. The last officer to do that had been whipped to death. Darrell shuddered at the memory.
Worneconto had said to begin at dawn, but Darrell knew that the knot didn’t open until an hour later. He knew that the portals were locked in some magical way that he couldn’t unlock. He also knew that Worneconto slept late and wouldn’t know if he didn’t start at dawn.
Still, he assembled his troops at dawn. He would have to explain how they would go from place to place and what they needed to do. The men were given five days rations in their packs, and lists of towns. Darrell had his scribes working late making these lists, so each team of warriors would know which places to attack, and which places someone else would attack. Darrell prided himself on his organizational skills.
As soon as the portals in the knot were unlocked, Darrell led his men into it and dispersed them to their various targets. They pushed aside the men trying to collect the fees for using the service, and chased them away. Clyde and his partner, Dean, were there, awkwardly carrying a stack of doorways, getting ready to add another section to the network. They were unable to get to any of the portals and escape, but they were able to do a magic jump to Evesham, to the northwest.
From there they hired some boys to take the portal network to all the towns they could and spread the alarm about the count’s attack. It was a bright idea, but ultimately futile. The count’s men had their lists and no place escaped their attentions.
Clyde and Dean used a portal to go to Penrith, a major city in the duchy of Hala, next door to Gorbal. They didn’t know what to do. They were just beginning students of magic. They knew the Treatise, and a few other things Walter and Mandy had thought it useful for them to know to do their job. They could travel magically, which most students didn’t learn until later. They could make portals, a feat taught even later, though not harder.
However, they were young and inexperienced in dealing with sudden disaster. Walter and Mandy should be told about what had happened, but they were in Uslar, a long way off. Walter and Mandy understood that their portals made any place the center of the network. They enjoyed being near Ben, his Temple, and his school, a good source of new recruits for spreading the network.
“How many portals are we going to have to use to get to Uslar?” asked Clyde. “It’s going to take all day to get there.”
“Let’s go to the school here in Penrith,” Dean suggested. “One of the other students at Ben’s school was thinking of studying here, because it was close to his parents’ house. Maybe the wizard here can help us somehow. It’s worth asking, anyway.”
Carl was an earlier graduate of Ben’s school and didn’t recognize Clyde and Dean, but assumed they were two prospective students for his school.
“Welcome, fellows, have you come to learn how to become wizards? This is a good school, and you will learn many amazing feats.”
“No, good master,” revealed Clyde. “We’re already students at Ben’s school in Uslar. But we are now working for Walter and Mandy setting up portals all over Gorbal. The count of Gorbal is attacking the network, and trying to destroy it. We need to tell Walter and Mandy.”
“Yeah, and taking the portals all the way will take all day, probably,” complained Dean. “Is there some faster way to get to Uslar? We know how to jump there, but I don’t think we have the mental strength yet for that long a jump.”
“Yes, there’s a portal here direct to the main Temple in Uslar. You should know that, being students there and all. I won’t blame you too much, since you’re disconcerted. Here, take that portal there. Good luck.”
“What does disconcerted mean?” asked Clyde as they entered the portal.
“It’s his polite way to say scared out of our wits.”
***
A few hours later Mandy led Clyde and Dean in a long jump from Uslar to Garz. She landed on her feet and watched the others stagger as they arrived, white-faced with the strain of a long jump. They were in the lobby of the school of magic in Garz, and Mandy looked around for the local wizard. Soon she spotted Marcus leading half a dozen students from a room.
“Marcus! Over here!” she called. “Is Ben somewhere nearby? He sent Walter and me a message that he was in Garz. I need to see him about a problem we have in Gorbal. The count there has outlawed magic.”
“Welcome, Mandy, it’s good to see you again. Outlawed magic? This is incredible! In all the years Ben’s been teaching magic, no one has ever tried to put a stop to his work. He’ll be outraged when he hears this. That is going to be one very sorry count when Ben gets through with him. He’s rented a house not too far from here. I’ll take you there now. ”
Marcus led Mandy and her two employees down one street and up another for half a mile. He knocked on the door of a building with peeling paint. They went in and saw the familiar faces from home, all gathered around a table with mugs of beer. Ben looked at them in surprise.
“Mandy, what brings you here? I’ve only been gone from Uslar for a few days. Don’t tell me you miss my silly face already?”
“No, Ben, it’s more serious, for Walter and me, and for you. The count of Gorbal has just outlawed magic in his county. You know Clyde and Dean; they’ve been installing portals for us in Gorbal. They showed up in Uslar this morning saying he’s destroying the whole portal network there.”
“We tried to object,” recounted Dean, “but there were warriors all in armor, with weapons. The men in charge said the count had just issued a law against the use of magic anywhere in Gorbal. He said they were going to tear down all the portals.”
“We were scared,” Clyde admitted, “and didn’t know what to do. We got away and went to Mandy and Walter for their help and advice. Mandy said we should talk with you.”
“Count Worneconto outlawed magic, just like that,” complained Ben. “How dare he? Who does he think he is?”
“We should go back and overthrow him,” growled Horace. “From what Gerald told us, he’s a bad lot, and his people probably won’t mind a change of count.”
“No, wait. I’m getting angry and irrational,” Ben cautioned. “He thinks he’s the count and can make whatever laws he likes. He is, and he can. Learn from my anger here. We are wizards and have immense power to do all sorts of things that others can’t do. Any of us, even one of these students, has more power than any swordsman, or count, or even king. And less authority than the simplest town dog catcher.
“None of us here has any right to challenge Worneconto, or discipline him. As Gerald said the other day, all the independent nobles of Orilon are laws unto themselves. There hasn’t been any grand superior over them since the days of the ancient empire, or at least the three kings of the Big War.
“I could force him to give up his power, lock him up in his own tower, even kill him if I wanted. I don’t want to kill someone, except in a fair fight. I especially don’t want to kill someone by using magic, because that would decidedly not be a fair fight. But I couldn’t justify any action I could take against him. I’m not an emperor, or a king, and I don’t want to be one. I also don’t want other rulers to become afraid that wizards will try to attack them as well. So, what can we do?”
“Horace is right, Ben,” Gerald insisted. “Worneconto is hated by his subjects. They won’t mind if he’s no longer the count, but they hesitate because he is the legitimate ruler. We could stir up a rebellion against him and force him out. However, if we overthrow him, who takes his place?”
The debate continued through the day without any conclusion. Tania and Blaise decided that Gerald had been properly healed, and went back to Uslar. The others kept talking into the night.
***
A loud knocking on the front door, followed by some muted talking, roused the wizards and rogues from their breakfast the next morning. Roger, as a lowly student, answered the knocking and saw a richly dressed man in a blue velvet tunic that came to the middle of his thighs, over gray trews. His cap was also of blue velvet, with a green feather sticking in it. His shoes were of fine, soft leather, painted with a pattern of leaves.
He was attended by two men in good mail armor, one of whom seemed to be the one who had knocked so loudly. He looked somewhat abashed, and mumbled, “Sorry for the banging.”
“Does Gerald the wizard live here?” the man in blue asked. “I have just seen the fabulous dragon’s head at the Temple of Pronustio and would like to speak to him about it.”
“Yes, please step in, milord,” Roger informed him, with a general deference to a rich man of unknown rank. He led the man and his attendants into the dining room. The stranger stopped short and apologized.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal. I’ll return later, if I may.”
“No, no, sit down and have some fruit,” offered Polly. “We are almost done eating, and it would be rude to chase you away. Who are you and why have you come so early in the day?”
“Thank you. I am Boltimar, one of the commanders in the Prince of Wilu’s army. My position is not highly paid, but I have a little wealth from other sources. I’m interested in bidding on the dragon’s head trophy that is to be auctioned off, and want to know how it was obtained. I understand it is owned by Gerald the wizard, a citizen of Gorbal. Is he here?”
“Indeed I am, My Noble Lord,” replied Gerald, rising from his seat. “This, my friends, is Viscount Boltimar, nephew of Worneconto.”
“I don’t use that title now,” objected Boltimar. “I serve the Prince of Wilu, and have no titles from him, other than commander. My past life in Gorbal is over. I may wish it were not, but a man must admit his limitations. Without many powerful friends, I can’t return to Gorbal, and too many fear to help me.”
“Ben, Horace, this is our answer,” Gerald exclaimed gleefully. “Who better to replace Worneconto than his nephew? My Noble Lord, dear son of the murdered Mandesomion, we were talking half the night about removing Worneconto from power and couldn’t come up with a replacement for him. You have come to the right place and at the right time. We can help you return to Gorbal and restore you to your proper rank.”
“What! Who are you people? What makes you think that a handful of, well, I don’t know what you are. But how could such an odd lot do anything to overthrow Worneconto? I would need an army, and I see fewer than a dozen men who might be able to fight.”
“Actually, almost all of us do know how to fight,” Polly corrected him, “including most of the women. Jenny here trained King Topinarien’s army in Taril a few years back. Is that good enough for you? Most of us are also wizards, not just Gerald. My husband here is Ben, about whom you may also have heard.”
“Ben? The great wizard? Really? I am most honored to meet you, sir. But why are you all considering overthrowing my uncle? I have reason enough, but what could drive you to do this?”
“He has outlawed magic in Gorbal,” Ben grumbled. “After three hundred years, wizards and magic once again have a place in Orilon. Except, now, in Gorbal. I have worked hard to establish schools and train wizards so that magic will once more benefit the people of this continent. Your uncle thwarts me, and I am very angry. I have no authority to depose him, however. He is an evil tyrant for outlawing magic. I would be a greater and worse tyrant if I claimed the right to depose him, just on my own whim.
“I could legitimately assist you to take the throne. You have a claim, despite being disinherited by Worneconto. Gerald tells me the people of Gorbal hate your uncle. Perhaps they can be persuaded to accept you as his replacement. We have a dozen highly skilled warriors here. Ten excellent wizards, with even more available if I call for them. And, if you want an army, look out the window.”
Boltimar turned and glanced out the window, and stepped back in shock. The street, empty just minutes earlier, was now full as far as he could see with hundreds, maybe thousands, of well armed warriors in full armor.
“How? What? Where did that army come from?”
“From my imagination,” Ben explained. “It’s an illusion. If you step out the door, you will walk through them as if they weren’t there. Because they really aren’t there. It’s a nice trick to scare one’s foes, but a flawed one. One man brave, or daring, or foolish enough to charge their serried ranks will learn, immediately, that there isn’t really any army there at all.
“Still, we have other magical means of beating your uncle. We can travel by magic into his castle and simply capture him. We could do it now, if you want. As a step in replacing him with you, it should probably be postponed until we have stirred up the people for a rebellion. I think they would be more receptive of the change if they felt they had had a hand in it.”
“Ben the great, the man who led King Topinarien’s army to victory in Taril, wants to help me. I am humbled by your offer, sir.”
“I am not ‘the great,’ or ‘magnificent,’ or any other absurd thing. I did not lead Topinarien’s army, he did. His army was trained by my friends here, and they fought hard because they loved their king and their country. I helped with some illusions, that’s all.
“I know more about magic now, and can do more to help you. But, really, this is so easy to do. It’s trivial. I can jump magically into his castle, find him, and take him out with me. I can imprison him in a cage made of compacted air. I can float him high up above his castle.
“You must do the hard work, Boltimar. You must go to Gorbal and show yourself to the people. You must arouse in them a desire for a change in their ruler. You must find the right people, fair minded, known for their honesty, who can try your uncle for his misdeeds. He must be legally, legitimately deposed. Otherwise you will be seen as a usurper, and wizards will be seen as dangerous interlopers.
“I regret having to say this to you, after having raised your hopes so much and having promised great help, but the truth is, I care more about the flourishing of magic in Orilon than I do for you and your future. These people here, in this room, my wife, my children, my friends and their children are all I care about more than magic.
“Magic has disappeared from Orilon for three hundred years. Counts, good or bad, come and go all the time. Replacing your uncle with you would be a good thing, as far as I can tell. But it is not worth damaging the reputations of wizards for years to come. Perhaps forever.”
“Well, that’s very direct, and honest,” admitted Boltimar. “Willing to help, eager to help, yet reluctant. I feel the same way. I could have come home at any time, trying to raise an army and challenge my uncle. I have a lot of practical experience in battle, I have large enough sums of money, I have many family friends in Gorbal. I have always held back for fear that an unsuccessful coup would destroy those friends. I could gladly risk my own life for my personal gain. My friends might be willing to risk theirs as well, but should I let them? You don’t want magic and wizards to be hated. I don’t want my memory to be that of a vain-glorious fool who cared more about his ambition than his friends.
“I think we understand each other. I want to depose my uncle and you are willing to help. Neither of us wants to hurt his reputation. I’m willing to do the hard work, as you called it. You’re right, I do have to lead this operation. Who would follow if I don’t lead? When? How soon can we do this?”
“The auction will be in five days. Gerald must stay for that, and the rest of us will stay to protect him. If Worneconto hears about the auction, he may try to steal the head again. You said that you want to bid on the head yourself. Well, after the auction, we can bring you to Gorbal, anywhere there you want, and begin the rebellion.”
“Five days to the auction. Good, that gives me four days to start talking to friends in Gorbal. Can you help me get there quickly? If the portals are broken there, it’ll take extra time to ride from the nearest working one.”
“Let us help you with that, Noble Lord,” said Clyde. “Dean and I want to go back to work building the portal network. We need the money we’re paid for our work. The sooner the count is deposed the sooner we can do that. We have a stack of doorways ready to use at our rooms in Immingham. Count Worneconto only destroyed the portals he knew about. He won’t be able to destroy any new ones we set up, because he won’t know about them.”
***
Darrell spent three days making his plans. Choosing the men to send was easy, two dozen of the count’s elite bodyguards should be sufficient. I didn’t see the men who came to rescue the wizards, but they only numbered a dozen. Twice their number will take care of them. I’ll put Carson in charge, he’s a capable sergeant and wants to earn a promotion. This will be a good chance for him to show his abilities.
This would be easier and faster if Worneconto hadn’t ordered the destruction of the portal network. It’ll take at least two days to get across the border into Hala to find a working portal. One more day going through portals to get to Garz. We’ve got a week before the auction, so there’s time to do this carefully.
If Carson and his men wear peasant type clothes and carry their mail in packs, with skull cap helmets, they won’t attract any attention on their travels. They only need to be armored for the raid. The report says the auction will be held in the Temple of Pronustio, so the head must be there. What’s in the Temple vaults is protected by the God, but I have seen pickpockets steal pouches in the outer Temple and not be struck down. A bold early morning grab? Late in the day, as the Temple is getting ready to close for the night? I must talk to Carson. Together we can work out a plan.
It turned out that one week, a mere ten days, was just barely enough time. One day was enough to make a good plan, two more days were needed to practice. The practice included one man being bold enough to steal a money pouch from someone in the Temple of Pronustio. Nothing happened to him, and Darrell and Carson were pleased. Apparently Pronustio only protected things in His vaults.
Carson and his men arrived in Garz early in the evening and discovered there were no rooms left at any of the inns in town. The auction had drawn rich and powerful people from all over Orilon, even the western parts. Portals had already made travel and communication much faster than ever before.
Carson wasn’t thinking about the economic benefits of magic at the moment. He gave up at last and found a place for his men to camp just outside the city’s east gate. They had no food with them, having planned on staying at inns, but there were merchants nearby selling meat and drink.
In the morning, four days before the auction, he had his men put on their mail armor, and their peasant garb over it. Their tunics were long enough to hide their hauberks, just barely. They carried their skull caps in the sacks that had held their armor. Carson led them through the gate and down the streets to the Temple. As they approached the door, he noticed a man going in.
I’ve seen that man before, somewhere. Ah, yes, in Gorbal. In Immingham, in fact. At Worneconto’s castle, I think. What’s he doing here? Doesn’t matter, what can he do to be a problem?
Gerald didn’t notice anybody as he went into the Temple. He was anxious, worried about the auction, afraid that Worneconto might try to upset it somehow. He thought it unlikely that Worneconto would try to steal the head from the Temple, since Ben had insisted that the head be deposited with the Temple just as if it had been gold. The head wouldn’t fit into the already full vault, and it looked better on display in the Temple’s lobby, but Gerald was still concerned that something would go wrong.
Carson opened the door to the Temple and looked inside. The dragon’s head, snarling fiercely, was resting on a plinth in the center of the floor. There were few other visitors at this early hour, the priests were not in sight, and no one was near the head. He sent in four men to grab it and carry it out the door. The rest of his men would be arranged in the street to hide them, protect them, and help them get out the east gate.
The four men went in casually, as they had planned. No sense attracting attention by skulking. They went up to the plinth and pulled the head down. They started to carry it toward the door when they all collapsed onto the floor. The head rolled a few feet away and stopped. Carson watched in astonishment and alarm.
Pronustio didn’t defend the pouch we stole! This head isn’t in His vaults. My Gods! Maybe they got Him to protect it anyway. Son of a lizard! What am I going to do now? How many men will it take to shove the damned thing through the door? Will Pronustio continue protecting it if we get it outside His Temple?
Someone shouted and Carson saw the man from Gorbal running into the lobby, followed by two priests. The man ran up to the head and looked it over for damage. Suddenly the head floated up, hovered a moment, then returned to its place on the plinth. Gerald sighed with relief when it was back in place, and began a discussion with the priests that Carson didn’t wait to hear. He closed the door and addressed his warriors.
“Men, we were wrong in thinking that something had to be in the vaults for Pronustio to protect it. All four of your friends are dead inside, struck down in an instant. The wizard who is trying to sell the head is there, and two priests. We could try to steal it again, with our original plan. This time we’ll send in two men, and they can throw the head toward the door. Two more can go in next and throw it closer still.
“I think that three attempts should get the head to the door, maybe even outside. Are six of you willing to die to help the rest of us take the head back to Count Worneconto? And no, I don’t know if it will be safe to carry the head away even if it’s outside.”
“Are you kidding us?” asked Rhys. “You just lost four good men, including a good buddy of mine. You want to throw away another six on the possibility, not even a certainty, that we can walk away from here alive. I’ve got a wife and kids back home and I’d like to see them again. Is this the best plan you can come up with?”
“We had a good plan, it just didn’t work out right,” confessed Carson. “If you don’t want to try this, can you come up with something better?”
“Well, if the God is going to protect it in the Temple, why not steal it somewhere else?” replied Rhys. “After the auction, someone is going to be the new owner and he’ll take it home with him. Let’s rob him somewhere the God won’t protect him.”
“Rhys, that’s a great idea! Wait a few days, watch the auction to see who buys it, and jump him on his way home. He might come to the auction with some guards for his money, but twenty of us will still outnumber them. Much easier. Rhys, I know that Darrell is thinking of promoting me if I do well with this raid. If I get that promotion, so will you. And that’s a promise.”
***
The auction was highly successful. Bidders came from all over Orilon. Magic schools in Ithenu and Meruno helped to spread the news of it across the western parts of the continent. The eastern parts already benefited from the growing network of portals. Hundreds of people arrived to vie for the greatest of all trophies, a dragon’s head. If any ancient lord had such a prize in his Great Hall, it had long since decayed to dust, and even the memory of it had vanished.
The bidding began at fifty thousand moons. Before the first bidder was finished making his bid, a second, and then a third over-topped him. In five minutes most of the bidders looked forlornly at something they could never have. The price kept climbing, though more slowly, as the number of bidders dropped.
Richly dressed merchants and nobles eyed each other with disdain for the other’s source of income. Their treasurers, assistants, and clerks constantly referred to notes on how much they could spend without going bankrupt. The bids became more calculated. No more jumps of ten thousand moons at a time. Now it was one thousand, even five hundred.
The Prince of Harith, in the Jolal semi-island, decided to drive the other bidders out with a very large bid, fifty thousand higher than the previous bid. He smiled to see the dejected looks on the other bidders faces. He had succeeded, they would drop out, and he would win. Then Ben made his first bid, adding another hundred thousand to the prince’s bid. The prince was shocked; he couldn’t believe anyone might be able to go over his bid. He sat down and just stared at the floor. The auction was over.
“Ben, why did you wait so long to start bidding?” asked Gerald, confused. “I didn’t think you wanted to bid. I’m certainly very happy about the price you are paying, but I just don’t understand. Can you even afford that much?”
“I’m Ben’s friend, companion, guardian, and, on the side, treasurer,” Betsy declared. “When he started out, no one could read a grimoire; you couldn’t even give one away to a Temple of Grasilos. Fifteen years ago they paid for a transliterated copy, and paid well. Ten years ago they paid incredible amounts for the complete collection of Grarnihorn’s library. They still pay for it. Yes, Ben can afford this.”
“I wanted this head as a trophy,” Ben explained. “I owe everything I am today to that chance encounter with a dragon long ago. I found the Treatise and the clue to understanding and learning magic. I wouldn’t be a wizard, nor would you or any of the others, if it wasn’t for that lucky day.
“I wanted to drive the price up as high as I could. I couldn’t do that if I bid early. Too many other bidders might drop out early if they saw me interested. I wanted to pay the highest price because you need a lot of money. You must repay the merchant whose house Worneconto burned down. You must build a new school, and Temple. You must be rewarded for your bravery and daring in trying to find another continent.
“When you have built your new school, I will give you this head to mount over your mantel. You deserve it, you have earned it, almost with your life. I will keep an illusion, a better one than I made for the count, but an illusion is fine for me. The head is a reminder of how I started out, my lucky day, but it doesn’t have to be real to remind me.
“Now, let me speak with these priests about transferring money from Uslar to you here. You’ll have to let the money sit here until we can get you reestablished in Spilsby. Even in suns, this is going to be a very large shipment of coin.”
In the back of the room, Carson and Rhys watched the auction with interest. They were amazed at the great amounts of money rich men were willing to pay for the dragon’s head. They understood now why Worneconto wanted it so badly. All they had to do was wait for the last bid, and follow that bidder home. Somewhere along the way, in a dark alley, on a lonely road in the woods, at a quiet inn at night, they would kill him and take the head.
They didn’t know the man who had won the auction. He didn’t look very important or even intelligent. They didn’t care, they would follow him anywhere he went. They watched him signal to four other people. They watched those two men and two women pick up the head carefully. They watched the whole party disappear.
***
“We’ll set it up here, in the Great Hall,” directed Ben when they popped up in the mansion. “Chad, get some men to help you move that table into the center of the room. When the table is ready, you others can put the head on it.
“Malcolm, please send messengers to Count Natamurk and to the town, letting them know about this trophy, and that it is available to one and all for inspection. The people of Uslar hear so much about our adventures, and never get to see any evidence of them. They should get to see this.”
The messengers left immediately. Well, immediately after finishing looking at the dragon’s head. The entire household thronged into the Great Hall to gaze in wonder at the trophy. As news spread into the town, more and more people came crowding in to see it.
After giving some more instructions to his major-domo Malcolm, Ben and the four children returned to Garz. The Temple of Pronustio had mostly emptied out. Gerald and the rogues were still there, as was Boltimar. Two other men still stood at the back of the room, dumbfounded and dispirited. As Ben and the others left the Temple, Carson and Rhys followed them and turned the other way down the street.
“They said he was a wizard” moaned Carson. “Who would have thought that? He does some magical disappearing act and now we can’t get the head. We don’t even know where it is, so we can’t steal it back. The count is not going to be happy to hear this news. I don’t think either of us is getting promoted any time soon.”
They went out the east gate to their camp and told the rest of the men the bad news. They packed up their belongings and went to the nearest portal to start the long trip home.
***
Boltimar led Ben and his friends into a large, pleasant looking house a few miles from Immingham. It was set in well-tended grounds with many types of blooming flowers. They went in and were met by a dignified man a little older than Boltimar.
“This is Vincenzo,” indicated Boltimar, introducing Ben and his friends. “His father ran my father’s household, not as a servant but as a trusted adviser. Fortunately for him, Worneconto’s hatred for his brother did not extend to his retainers.
“He is helping me talk to those who hate Worneconto, and who might help overthrow him. He has also offered his manor house as a safe place to gather and plot. We can bring our friends here and no one in the city will be aware. If you need to bring in more wizards, bring them here as well.
“Those two young wizards are fantastic, Ben. Are they really just beginning students? They set up portals from their stock here, then sent back to Uslar for more. Another pair of wizards, their employers, they said, Walter and Mandy, are bringing in still more portals and helpers. The network Worneconto destroyed won’t be replaced entirely, and it won’t be public, but we’ll have a lot of connections in a very short time. I’m impressed by their industry.
“I’m meeting tonight with a great number of men who would like to see a new count. Some remember my father favorably. Some just don’t like my uncle. Destroying the portal network just as people were beginning to see how useful it can be was a big mistake. Merchants who rarely have political opinions are now taking my side.
“Barons were always going to support me, if they could be sure of victory. All we need now is a plan to depose Worneconto, one that won’t fail. If this meeting is successful, Ben, will you give me a plan? Or is that part of my job, too?”
“No, I’ve already told you the plan. We travel by magic into his castle, grab him, and take him off for trial. This is easy to do. In the old days, during the Big War, the wizards formed bodyguards around their masters. If a hostile wizard showed up, they killed him before he could kill the king. They used illusions of the king to help disguise him. If they hadn’t, the war could not have lasted so long because the rulers would have been eliminated very early on. But now, I could send even some of my first year students to grab him, and he’d have no defense.”
***
While Boltimar met with the dissatisfied subjects of Count Worneconto, the rogues held their own planning meeting. The original six rogues sat opposite their six oldest children at one end of a long feast table. Gerald, Doris, Roger, Sadie, Clyde, and Dean sat at the other end. Roger knew that they were there as a courtesy, that Ben and the others would make any decisions.
“Ben, I like your plan,” agreed Vince, “it’s simple, direct, and almost foolproof. Except that no plan is foolproof. I’ve made too many plans that didn’t work right to think otherwise. You want to jump into Worneconto’s room and grab him. Fine. What if he’s got his guards all around him? What if he’s not in that room, and you have to search for him? You’ll need support, fighting support.”
“I wasn’t thinking of going in alone,” Ben admitted. “I talked about that because I wanted Boltimar to feel confident. Polly, I, and the kids will jump into Worneconto’s study. We’ve all been there so it’s an easy target. I’ll drop a jump disk on the floor, and Clyde and Dean here can bring in a portal so the rest of you can join us. We’ll have a dozen good fighters there, and should be able to handle whatever force he may have long enough for us to grab him.”
“Vince is right, Ben,” countered Jenny. “He’s been planning raids forever. While you’ve been studying magic, we’ve been working on our roguish skills, just in case we ever needed them again. A dozen fighters, especially this dozen, is good, but even this dozen may not be enough. Our kids are still young, and untested. Yes, I trained them, but experience does count. If, as Vince suggested, Worneconto isn’t in his study, we’ll have to search for him.
“Even with Polly’s ability to find people, the castle is not one we know well. Which staircase goes where we want to go? I don’t want you jumping away from us, we’re a major part of your support. Horace isn’t the only one who wants to protect you. Our dozen fighters can beat a larger force, but how many warriors can a count put up against us? We need more people on our side. Who can we ask for help? Natamurk will give us troops, I suppose, if we ask him.”
“Amos,” suggested Polly. “He is always telling us he owes us favors. His gang has settled down just like us. They’ve married, and have kids, about the same age as our kids. He’s trained them to fight well, even the girls, and we’ve helped him with the training from time to time. Even without their kids, he’s got his original fifteen men, and all the rest of his militia. Another few dozen couldn’t hurt.”
“If we were storming the battlements, I’d ask for their help,” commented Vince. “Amos and his militia are good, but that study we’re going into isn’t very large. Hmm, maybe I’m wrong. We don’t need his whole army. What he calls his ‘central force’, the original gang, is all we really want. We know how good they are now, and we all trust one another. Ben, can you set up a portal to Ochtrup for us?”
When Boltimar returned from his meeting, he was surprised to see fifteen more mail-clad fighters in the room, some nearing middle age but looking confident. He knew the look of trained warriors, the self-certainty of competence.
“I see you’ve brought in some more warriors,” he remarked. “Good. I’ve got promises from the most important barons and the men who run the major towns. They will all help, with men and with money. I am going out tomorrow around the county, using your new portal network, to talk to the farmers and other ordinary people. I need them more than I need the others, since they’re the ones who will have to fight for me.
“I told the barons and rich men about your help, Ben, only after they had already promised their support. That impressed them and boosted their confidence. May I tell the peasants that you are helping, as well?”
“Yes, of course,” Ben replied. “Do it up front, if you want. I’m a peasant by birth and nature. I know my kind. We’ll fight for someone else’s benefit, not expecting anything in return, because it’s not often offered. Still, we do like to have some assurance we might survive.”
“Then let me have three days traveling around Gorbal to incite the peasants to revolt on my behalf. Clyde and Dean are going to go with me, armed with portals and a map. They will set up my connections to each town, and new portals linking those towns with Immingham. On the fourth day, when the sun is fully up, let us make our attack on Worneconto’s castle.”
***
Barons leading their men at arms poured out of hidden portals all over Immingham. They were joined by masses of peasants, led by former warriors, bold farmers, or just eager young men. The streets of the city were soon full of armed men, rushing toward the castle. The peasants had woodsman’s axes, scythes, large knives, hammers, mallets, and the other tools farmers have that never look dangerous.
Ben and Polly jumped into Worneconto’s study and looked around. The room was empty, which they had considered a possibility. Dan and Edgar followed, carrying a doorway. They set it up against a plaster wall and Gavin, Horace’s son, pounded a spike through a hole at the top to hold it in place. The rest of the party followed, excepting the students.
The wizards stood in quiet thought, trying to sense where in the castle Worneconto might be. He was a late riser this morning, sleeping well past dawn because he didn’t realize his danger. The sudden appearance of hundreds of armed men in the streets of the city had not yet been reported to the castle.
Ben looked at Polly and the other wizards.
“Next floor up, and somewhere to the right from this staircase, I think,” he noted.
“Yes, and I only sense three guards near that room,” observed Polly. “Let’s go, then.”
Vince and Horace led the way up the stairs, just wide enough for two armed men. Jenny and Betsy came next, then Ben, Polly, and the children. At the landing, Vince and Horace ran down the corridor, easily cutting down two guards who hadn’t expected an attack. Jenny killed the third one while Betsy opened the door they had been standing in front of.
Worneconto’s bedroom was very large, as spacious as his study downstairs. Reworked stones in the walls showed how it had been enlarged from two smaller rooms. His bed was in the corner, near a window overlooking his private garden. Rudely awakened from his sleep by loud noises, he was just wrapping a robe about himself, shouting in rage for his guards, and cursing violently at the intruders.
The rogues and wizards swarmed into the room. Ben stood at the back of the crowd, taking his helmet off to scratch an itch behind his ear. He wanted to let Gerald have the glory of seizing Worneconto, since he had suffered the most from the count. As Gerald stepped forward to grab him, several more guards rushed into the room behind them.
Worneconto saw them and shouted, “Kill him, he’s their leader. Kill them all!”
One of them struck at Ben, cutting him across the back of his head. Polly looked in horror as Ben fell, blood streaming from his scalp. The guard raised his sword to deliver another blow and it fell on … nothing. He swung again and the same invisible wall blocked his blows. He suddenly felt himself floating, rising to the ceiling, unable to get down.
Oh, no! I almost killed him with magic! Ben said we must never do that. That it would be wrong to use magic to kill people. Oh, dear Goddess Humoparmia, thank You for making me think of another way to protect Ben.
Ben gasped as he fell, Polly cried out, the guard yelled as he rose. The sounds alerted everyone else. Horace, seeing Ben bleeding on the floor, raised his axe and ran into the guards coming in. He cut two down at once and made three more move back. Other guards continued coming in and the room became filled with battling men and women.
Gerald, seeing the chaos breaking out, fought to regain his composure. Not wanting to let his enemy escape, he built a quick air wall enclosure around the count. Worneconto couldn’t get away now, and Gerald could focus his attention on helping his friends with the fighting. He wasn’t a warrior, but a wizard can always find a way to block an opponent’s blow, or trip him up.
In ten minutes the fight was over. Bodies, all guards, except Ben, littered the floor. Blood was everywhere, along with hacked off limbs, and other things that spilled out of cut up bodies. Doris cleared off the large table near the fireplace, and Ben’s children used their magical skills to lift his body and place it there.
“I’m terribly sorry, Polly,” apologized Vince, crying loudly. “This is my fault. I should have stood watch outside the room to prevent this sort of attack. I should have expected it, and didn’t even think about it. Please forgive me, dear Polly.”
“None of us thought of it, Vince,” confessed Jenny. “Even Ben didn’t think of it. We were all so sure this was going to be easy, we never gave a thought about other guards. Don’t take all the blame for this. We all have a share.
“Polly, let me find you a place to rest. You shouldn’t be standing here looking at Ben. We’ll get him some good help. I know this is shocking. You should go somewhere else. Don’t stare at him like that, please.”
“No, I’m all right,” answered Polly with a distant, strained voice. “I can handle this. Just because the man I love most in the whole world, the father of our children, the kindest man I’ve ever known is lying there bleeding to death, that doesn’t mean I can’t face up to my duty. I have to save him, with these others, and anyone else we can get to help. Who can do that but me, our children, our wizard friends?
“Lily, you have a strong mental call. Ask Tania and Blaise to come here. We need healers as well as wizards. Let me see that wound. Oh, Gods! Ben, dear Ben! How they have cut you!”
“Are you all right, mom?” asked Dan. “We can do this, you know. You and Ben have trained us thoroughly. We’re starting from the same place Ben would, because even he has never seen a wound like this. Jenny’s right, you should lie down and rest. Let us take care of Ben.”
“I’m fine,” Polly insisted, with an odd calmness. “I can do this. I will do this. You’ve read the Treatise. You’ve learned how to control your mind. I can control mine, too. And when we are done, and Ben has been healed perfectly, then, and only then, will I allow myself to collapse. Understand?”
“Yes, mother.”
“Good. Then take your knife and shave the hair away from the edges of that cut. We don’t need it getting in the way, and it’ll grow back later. Katie and Mabel, get some clean water. Gavin and Edgar, go with them to protect them. This castle is still a hostile place. Let’s not forget that again.”
Clyde walked into the room a little later, and gasped at the bloody sight. Behind him came some men in armor, in a different livery than Worneconto’s. They all stopped in the doorway, looking at the slaughter.
“Um, Polly, this is Baron Sasstinian, from someplace near here. We’ve used your portal to move into the castle, and his men are now clearing out the last of the defenders. I wanted to introduce him to Ben and …. Oh, no! Is that Ben on that table? Oh, dear Gods! What happened to him?”
“He’s been wounded, and badly,” said Polly in an eerily tranquil voice. “Nice to meet your Lordship, but we’re busy right now trying to save his life. I would appreciate it if you could spare a half dozen men to help guard this corridor. Vince, you rogues can’t help in here, but you can help a lot out there. You younger kids can defend this room. Clyde, I need a portal here, a big one, just in case there’s a counterattack and we have to flee. Dan, have you finished shaving Ben’s head? Then jump home and bring back a jump disk. Tell Tania and Blaise what one to aim for.”
Having given her orders, Polly walked to the table and looked at Ben’s wound for the first time up close. A gash six inches long split his skull wide open, and she could see his brain inside. Blood still oozed from the cut, but not very strongly now. The brain seemed to pulse, and the blood flow, while slow, was a sign that he was still alive.
A few minutes later, Dan arrived with the jump disk, closely followed by Tania, Blaise, Joan and nine children.
“What are our young children doing here, Joan?” asked Polly.
“When they heard Ben had been badly injured, and our local healer wizards were going to help heal him, they insisted on coming too. I couldn’t turn them down, because I want to help too. Ben healed me and I need to repay him for that. He’s their father, their parents’ friend, their favorite story-teller. Some may be too young and untrained to be of much help, but the oldest aren’t that much younger than Dan and Lily. Let them help. They need to help, even a little bit. They grew up on the story of Ben saving Jenny’s life. How could they not want to do the same for Ben?”
“Thank you, all of you,” sighed Polly. “Right now, I have nothing for you to do. When I have a job you can handle, I will definitely give it to you. All right? Then sit down out of our way until then.”
Joan and the two healers joined Polly in examining Ben.
“I’ve never healed a wound like this,” said Tania. “Until the battle against Mittanolo, I’ve never treated wounded warriors. There were men with cuts like this then, but they had all died from them already. I’ve seen men with skulls broken in accidents, but not this bad. Some survive, some don’t.”
“I saw a head wound like this once, long ago,” Blaise told them. “The man died before I even got to him, but I remember what the brain looked like, all exposed like this.”
Katie, Mabel, and their brothers entered the room carrying four large buckets of water. Polly watched them set the buckets down and stood a while in thought.
“Katie, get the students in here. Clyde, Dean, Roger, and Sadie. I want them to watch this. I’ve never seen such a wound, much less healed one like this. Nor has Ben. None of us really know what to do, but that never stopped Ben. And it won’t stop me.
“Otolengu! How good of you to come! How did you know?”
“I told him about Ben,” disclosed Tania. “He knows as much about magical healing as I do. I wanted him to help us. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not,” admitted Polly, turning to the students coming in. “You students. Can you all float? Yes? Good. Float yourselves overhead so you can see what we’re doing while staying out of our way. You children, too. This is a special class in healing magic. Pay attention. None of us have ever done this, so this is how Ben himself would do it. This is how he healed Jenny. No training, because it doesn’t exist yet. No certainty, except our faith in our own abilities. No fear.”
***
“There are strands of hair, and bits of bone all through the brain,” noticed Otolengu, straightening up. “We have to remove all of that contamination before we can do anything else. This will take a long time, and be very tiring. We were all exhausted after healing my uncle’s leg, and that was much easier than this will be. How many wizards do we have?”
“All of the older children, ours and our friends’, know magic,” counted Polly. “That’s six skilled wizards right there, plus the nine youngsters who aren’t as well trained yet. I think they can help with removing the debris, they all know the floating feat. You, me, Tania, Blaise, Gerald, and Doris. Six more. Some of the kids haven’t got as much mental strength yet, not for stamina anyway. But they can still take turns with the rest of us. Have you rinsed the wound thoroughly yet, Lily?”
“Yes, I managed to flush out a little debris, but I didn’t want to touch anything.”
“All right,” directed Polly. “Students, first thing to do, rinse the wound carefully. Now we adjust our vision to get a close look at the inside of the wound. Dan, can you float out that bit of hair, just there? Gavin, there’s some bone chips under that bit there. Can you get them out?”
Every fifteen minutes the wizards changed around. The strain on their eyes and their nerves was too great to work for a long time. Little by little the hair, bits of bone, and other contaminants came out.
“Look, under that bit of brain,” pointed Otolengu. “There’s another bit of hair. Mabel, can you float that part of the brain up just a little. Thank you. There, I’ve got it.”
“Are we finished with this part?” asked Katie.
“Not yet, we need to search mentally for anything we can’t see,” Polly instructed them. “Gerald, you’ve had a rest, look for hair or bone or anything else.”
Gerald leaned over the wound, not looking with his eyes, but with his mind, trying to find things that didn’t belong there. He stopped at one point, peered into the wound, and carefully nudged a bit of brain aside. Doris, helping him, floated out the bit of dirt. Finally, he stood up and declared, “It’s clean.”
“No, wait, there’s a piece missing!” screamed Alice, Ben’s youngest daughter. The youngest wizards were gathered around a small table by Worneconto’s bed, arranging small bits of material taken from Ben’s wound. “Joan had us playing with broken bones last summer. Break a bone and then reassemble it from the shards. We youngest ones had oodles and oodles of practice. We’ve put this bone back together, but there’s still one piece we don’t have.”
All the wizards focused on Ben’s head, trying to find a final fragment of bone inside. Then Doris’ attention was drawn down. She glanced at the floor, and saw a spot of something. Focusing her search there, she saw it was the bone chip.
“I’ve found it! It’s here on the floor. Must have dropped from the table. Thank the Gods it’s not in his head.”
Otolengu joined Tania and Blaise as they prayed to Lesopatia, Goddess of Healing, for help in the last stages of the operation.
“I’m not a member of Her cult, but I know She appreciates any help we wizards can give to Her healers. I’d worship Her more often, but I have my own Temple to Humoparmia to run.”
The rogues had returned to the room at some point, no one quite knew when. They watched in rapt wonder at the magical healing across the room. Vince had seen Ben heal his arm. They had all seen Ben heal Joan’s leg. These were all small miracles compared to this. The only thing that could compare no one had seen, the healing of Jenny.
“Blaise, Tania, you know about healing. Do we just close up the wound now?” asked Polly. “Is there something more to do?”
“I’m the senior healer, and I don’t know,” Blaise admitted. “Most people who have a wound like this die, usually before a healer can be called, like at that battle. Some survive, but we don’t know how or why. I’m sorry to tell you that. But I believe in the help we can get from two Goddesses, Lesopatia and Humoparmia. They both love Ben. Humoparmia because he is Her first priest in hundreds of years. Lesopatia because he teaches his magic to healers to make them better healers. Their support makes me confident.”
“I asked about closing the wound because it is sort of final. When Ben healed Vince’s arm, there was just an open cut. When we healed Otolengu’s uncle, once the wound had been properly cleaned, it was just an open cut. Joan’s leg, once he had rebuilt the bone inside it, was simple.
“This is more than a cut in flesh. Ben’s brain is still exposed. Do we just take this bone the kids have rebuilt and stick it in place? Do we need to rearrange anything in the brain? I’d hate to have Ben survive and be an idiot.”
“I still don’t know...,” began Blaise, before staring straight ahead speechlessly.
“Lesopatia just spoke to me,” he whispered in awed tones, tears of joy gathering in his eyes. “I love my Goddess so much! She says we have finished, and can now close the wound. Replace the bone, seal it in place with our normal bone repair feat, and close the skin over it. Thank you dear Goddess!”
Polly took the repaired bone, looked at it, and handed it to Otolengu. “I’m too tired. Ben once wanted you to finish healing your uncle and you said you weren’t ready to do such things. You’re ready now. Ben would be pleased that you did this.”
“Thank you, Polly. I feel deeply honored to do this favor for Ben. I won’t fail him, or you.”
Otolengu placed the section of bone into the hole in Ben’s skull and worked the magic that would bind it as if never broken. He pulled the skin together and healed it nice and smooth. He stood up, looking at Ben, and at Polly and the others.
“We’re done.”
Polly thanked him, gave him a kiss on his cheek, and collapsed to the floor. Jenny and Betsy picked her up and laid her on the bed to let her sleep. Lily used magic to lengthen her sleep, and did the same for her father.
The tension in the room was gone. Everyone congratulated everyone. They had all worked on some part of the operation, and it was a success. They wanted to celebrate. Kisses, hugs, pats on the back. Even the youngest were honored for their share of the work, especially rebuilding the bone.
More people entered the room. Baron Sasstinian walked in just ahead of Boltimar and a dozen men in bloody armor. Boltimar had a worried look on his face and gazed around for Ben. He saw him lying on the table, his head bloody, stretched out in sleep or death, and blanched.
“Is, oh, dear me, to lose him now when all is won. Is Ben alive? My victory would mean nothing if we lose him. Please say he’s all right.”
“Yes, Your Excellency, he’s just sleeping now,” comforted Gerald. “We’ve just finished healing his wound. It has taken us a long while. What time is it anyway?”
“An hour past noon,” noted Sasstinian.
“No wonder I’m so tired. Six hours since we started. You spoke of victory, Your Excellency. Is the fighting all over, then?”
“Yes, Gerald, it’s all over but one thing. Where is Worneconto? We still haven’t discovered him. I thought you would have captured him early this morning. What happened with that?”
Then someone noticed the figure in the corner. Worneconto was still trapped in the air wall box Gerald had built around him. He had been forced to watch the magical healing of a man he hated, in which another man he hated had played a role. He had to see magic being used in his own bedroom. He had stopped shouting in rage quite some time ago, but he still glared ominously at all of them. Now he glared in utter loathing at the man who had come in, talking of victory.
“I’m sorry, Your Excellency,” Gerald apologized. “When Ben was attacked, we had to fight back. I didn’t want Worneconto to escape in the confusion, so I built an air box around him. And forgot I had done it. Here he is, in the corner, fuming, furious, and securely locked up. What do you want us to do with him?”
“I have promised the barons, the rich merchants who run the towns, and the peasants who support all of us that he will be tried for his crimes. A fair trial. If he is found guilty, the jury will decide what to do with him. In theory, they could let him keep his coronet. I don’t think that’s likely. Until they decide, I am still just a viscount, with no claim to those pleasant ‘Your Excellencies’ you keep throwing at me.”
***
Polly woke early the next morning in a strange bed. She rose and looked around. She wasn’t in Worneconto’s bedroom, or even his castle, she thought. She opened the door to the room and saw Horace dozing on a chair next to another door. She smiled and kissed his forehead. He woke, blushed, and said “Good morning, Polly. Sleep well?”
“Yes. Is Ben in here? Is he...He’s fine, isn’t he?”
“How could there ever be any doubt about that? With all you wizards and healers, how could you all fail? We came in from guarding you about halfway through. I’ve never seen such care and attention to any job, so much love and concern for anyone. I cried. So did all of us. Yes, he’s fine, but he’s still asleep. Go on in and wake him up.”
Polly went in and saw Ben asleep in a large bed. She looked around, trying to decide where they were. She didn’t recognize anything. She assumed they were in Gorbal, probably still in Immingham. It didn’t matter, as long as Ben was fine. She went to the bed and looked at him. He turned over and she saw the shaved area of his head. Clean, fresh, no trace of having been ripped open just yesterday morning.
She kissed him lightly, and his eyes fluttered. He opened them all the way and he saw her smiling at him. He smiled back and kissed her firmly.
“My head hurts something awful,” he complained. “What happened to me? I know someone hit me from behind, but after that it’s all a blank. I had a dream, like the one after I healed Jenny. Humoparmia and Lesopatia were there, but not Death. I was glad to not see him there. Humoparmia said nothing to me, but She smiled at me a lot. Lesopatia whispered, ‘Thank you, Ben. For all you’ve done for Me, I’ve guided My healers hands. I couldn’t let you die.’
“Was I in that bad a condition? Who did the healing? You, of course. Who else?”
“Everyone, darling. All us adults, all the kids, even the youngest. Alice rebuilt the bone to close off your skull. Otolengu set it in place. Everyone healed you.”
“Then let me get out of bed and thank them. Don’t worry, I’m feeling well enough. Gerald got up an danced after we healed him. So did Dumotrino. Magical healing is thorough, and quick. Where are we? This doesn’t look like Worneconto’s castle. Or does he have nicer rooms?”
“I don’t know,” answered Polly as they left the room. “I passed out once you were healed. I know now how you were after healing Jenny. It’s a humbling experience, doing so drastic a healing. None of our healers had ever seen or worked on such a wound. Your skull was cut open, full of hair and bone chips. It was scary. Oh, here are the others.”
They walked into a large room with chairs and tables scattered about. There was food and drink on the tables, and the rest of their friends were enjoying breakfast. Everyone crowded around Ben, asking him how he felt and congratulating him on his recovery. Ben blushed at the attention, and thanked them all for their help in healing him.
“Otolengu!” Ben exclaimed. “Where did you come from? Did you really close me up? Thank you, I always knew you could do that.”
“Tania said you had been badly wounded, and she wanted the best healer wizards to work on you. My parents were having a feast the next day to celebrate their wedding anniversary. I told them I couldn’t stay for the feast. My mother was angry and wanted to know what was more important than her celebration. I said, ‘Ben has been injured and needs my help.’ She said, ‘Then why are you still here?’”
“When you get back home, thank her for her courtesy toward me. Does anyone know where we are? I assume we’re not still in Worneconto’s castle.”
Boltimar entered the hall with a large number of other men. Some were obviously guards, their tabards and armor still bloodstained from the previous day’s fighting. Some seemed to be clerks and other personal attendants to the nobleman. A few were too well dressed to be attendants, too serious in their appearance not to be warriors. One of them came up to the rogues and answered them.
“I heard that. Welcome to my home. I am Baron Sasstinian, one of Count Boltimar's earliest supporters. He says I may not call him ‘count’ yet. Hah! We all know what the people of Gorbal will decide. I am happy to see you awake and active this morning, Master Ben. Yesterday, your good wife chased me away lest I interfere with your healing.”
“Thank you, My Lord Baron,” objected Ben, “but that’s another title you may not use. I’m just Ben. Not ‘master’ or any other fancy title. I admit I have done great things, originally for fame and renown. No longer. I have tasted fame and it embarrasses me. I was born a peasant, and who ever heard of a famous peasant?”
“You can still be honored, Ben,” Boltimar replied, picking an orange from the table and peeling it. “I have heard you are very strong willed, that your strong mind is the secret of your wizardry. I too can be strong willed. I have decided to erect a statue to you in the main square of Immingham, to honor you for helping rid Gorbal of Worneconto. We shall see whose will is stronger.”
“Oh, this is an easy contest, My Noble Lord Viscount. I will happily allow you to set up a statue of me. In the courtyard of your castle, where it really belongs. Or in the courtyard of the new school of magic which Gerald will soon build. You will, of course, put it where you want it. But I’m a wizard and can move it to wherever I want it. I say this in jest, because in two or three years you will have one of Gerald’s new graduates move it back again.”
“In my castle courtyard? Yes, that appeals to me. I want to rule Gorbal more lightly than my uncle did. I want to let ordinary people who have complaints about my government come in person and tell me what’s wrong. Seeing your statue there will encourage them. I like that idea. Oh, dear, you just won that argument, didn’t you?”
***
After three days, when he was certain he had healed fully, Ben and his friends returned home for some well-earned rest. Not too restful, since Ben’s students had heard of his wounding, and they came from all over Orilon to visit. They wanted to congratulate his healers, they wanted to express their relief at his survival, they wanted to see the now-famous dragon’s head.
Ben led a long procession from his Temple of Humoparmia into Uslar to the Temple of Lesopatia. He wanted to publicly thank Her for the help She had given those who had healed him. He donated money to expand the hospital the healers ran. Then he knelt in prayer.
Dear Goddess, dearest of all the Gods but One to me, I thank You most humbly for aiding Your healers as they worked on me. I would gladly join them and worship You full time, but my own Goddess demands too much of my time. I thank You for tolerating and accepting the help Her magic can add to Your healing talents. You have blessed me once more. I only hope I deserve it.
He stood and faced the people crowded into the Temple.
“I hereby declare that from this day forward, any healer who wishes to learn magic to aid their healing abilities may do so at my expense. Free of any charge. I urge all those wizards to do the same who have their own schools now. This is my gift to all healers and to their Goddess for the help She has given me.”
***
After Ben had returned home, Boltimar convened his council of advisers. The relatively easy task of becoming count was done, now he had to take on the serious work of reorganizing his newly won county. And the first question was: What to do with the former count?
“You are now seeing yourself in Worneconto’s place as ruler,” noted Sasstinian. “This is good, because you must act the role even before the people give it to you. We need firm leadership and a sense of direction now. You said your uncle must be put on trial. When can we hold that trial for him? This is the most important thing you must decide now.”
“One month’s time should be enough to spread the news over all of the county,” Boltimar decided. “I don’t want to appear too hasty to be rid of my uncle. His arbitrary rule should not be replaced by another just as arbitrary. I want the people, high and low, to have time to think about this, and about how they wish to be ruled.
“I have spoken to Ben’s friends in the portal business and they are bringing in workers from their entire network to replace the portals destroyed by Worneconto. They will even extend the network to all the places in Gorbal that hadn’t yet been connected. They tell me the work can be done in three days. They say they have twenty teams here, some relocating the portals we used to attack the city, others setting up new portals. They already had a plan to cover the county with portals, so no time will be lost in planning. I wish I could hire Mandy and Walter to be my advisers,. They have marvelous organizational talents. I wonder, is that magic too?
“That leaves more than three weeks for the people of Gorbal to hear the news and discuss it. I want them to choose two men from every village to attend the trial. Distant places like Snaith are already on the rebuilt network, and they can send riders, old style, to their neighbors. I want these rural people to attend this trial, to have a say in who will rule them.
“I learned during my years in exile what Ben knew from his birth. Peasants are easily and often ignored. Their complaints mean nothing to those who rule them, not always, but far too frequently. I want them to have a voice here.
“Barons, townsmen, peasants, sitting as a jury in judgment of the count who abused them all. Each group will have one vote, and each vote will be as good as the next. Vincenzo, my trusted aide, will prosecute the case against Worneconto. Orlando, High Priest of Fostenaris, God of Justice, will run the proceedings. Only the jury will be allowed to decide the outcome.”
***
Three weeks later Gerald and Doris came to Uslar to visit Ben. Gerald thanked Ben for all the help he had given him recently. Healing his leg first of all. Then recovering the dragon’s head, auctioning it off, and buying it himself.
“I can’t thank you enough for that money, Ben. I had few students, and they weren’t rich. Because of your generosity, I’ve repaid Anders, the man who paid for my magical education, and the merchant whose house Worneconto burned down. He was kind enough to sell me another house, bigger and nicer than the first, for my school.
“I would like you and Polly to come to Spilsby for the opening. Everything that’s happened recently has made people aware of magic, and in a good way. I’ve picked up three more students already. Everybody in Gorbal knows how you helped Boltimar, and they want to see you. I know how you feel about fame, but this is for them. Please come.”
“It’s true that I hate attention, but I do recognize that people like to thank someone who has done them a favor. I only helped Boltimar, with my friends; he did the serious work. On the other hand, our help was useful, and I shouldn’t avoid taking credit for what I did.
“You probably want your dragon’s head, too. I’ve already finished my illusion of it. I rushed the first illusion that I left for Worneconto, but this one I took my time on. It was a pleasant way to finish recuperating. Every little detail is there, just as good as the real head. Better, in fact, because my servants don’t have to dust an illusion.”
Three days later Ben and Polly accompanied Gerald and Doris back to Spilsby. Gerald’s new school was indeed nicer than the old one. It had once belonged to a merchant who had moved into a still more beautiful house. This building was well decorated, though not in the latest style, and sat close to the center of Spilsby. It was spacious, with many rooms for Gerald and Doris, and even more for classrooms. Workmen were still busy with some of the changes Gerald wanted, but the school was ready to take in students.
Ben and Polly helped Gerald and Doris dedicate the shrine to Humoparmia, and officially open the school. The dragon’s head was installed in the courtyard, over the main entrance to the school. Ben’s preservation feat meant that the weather would never harm it.
Boltimar was present, with his family. He was most impressed by the dragon’s head. He had seen it in Garz, but he seemed more intrigued by it now.
“I still have the illusion you made to fool Worneconto, Ben,” Boltimar mentioned. “I like it, but this is so much more real. I mean, obviously this is the real head and the other is an illusion. But this seems so much more lifelike.”
“I was in a hurry when I made that illusion, and didn’t take enough care to make it perfect. I think, if you ask Gerald nicely, he will make you a perfect illusion for yourself. He’s good at illusions, and I suspect he will want to offer a present to his new, and better, count.”
“Ah, still not ‘count’ yet. The title change must wait for the trial’s end. But I will ask Gerald that. I have a request for you, too, Ben. Could you and Gerald come to Immingham while you’re here in Gorbal? I want you to meet some of my advisers and other prominent people. We’ve been discussing geography lately, and would like your advice.”
***
Two days later Ben and Gerald and their wives entered the comital castle in Immingham. It was mid-afternoon and they were brought to the rooms they would occupy for the next few days. They were pleasantly surprised to see the walls were newly plastered and painted. The curtains had also been replaced with more attractive ones. The beds had new feather mattresses and sheets. In the early evening they attended a feast with Boltimar, his family, and many others. Boltimar introduced them to the wizards.
“Ben, this is the chief scholar in Immingham, Anders, and his associates Deacon and Titus. Anders says he knows you, Gerald. This is Theodore, High Priest of Pronustio here, and two other merchants, Oliver and Jedidiah. You know my adviser Vincenzo. Next to him is Cyrus, my marshal. Don’t be shy, Ben, sit here by me. Gerald, take that seat next to my wife Mariloni.”
After dinner, they had retired to the old study where Ben had irritated Worneconto It too had been modified. The furniture was the same, but in new places. Some paintings had been added to the walls. The dark, musty curtains over the windows had been replaced by something more attractive.
Boltimar sat on one side of the wide table that still dominated the room. The other richly dressed men took seats around it randomly. Boltimar’s wife Mariloni had already led off Polly and Doris, against Polly’s will, to have some “girl talk.”
“Help yourself to the wine, Ben, Gerald,” offered Boltimar. “I asked you to come here tonight because of a discussion all of us here had last week. I pointed out how all the recent changes stem from Gerald’s meeting with a dragon. The dragon tried to follow Gerald here and lost its head; Ben came to heal Gerald; Worneconto stole the head; Ben got it back; Worneconto outlawed magic; and in the end, I became the presumed new count.
“We were amazed that all this came from that dragon, and marveled at the existence of a dragon in this day and age. Suddenly Anders pointed out the even more amazing fact, something we had all ignored. Even Gerald, who went looking for it, forgot this, I think. The dragon came from another continent. Another continent! We hadn’t thought about that part of the story at all. Now we can’t stop thinking about it. Gerald set out to find another continent, and did, and we weren’t paying attention!”
“All scholars assume there are other continents on the planet of Sarpala,” Anders informed them. “We have calculated the size of Sarpala, and we know how large Orilon is. It’s only a small part of our estimate of the world’s size, so there must be other continents. We have no proof, but we firmly believe this. And now Gerald has found one of them. How wonderful!”
“I know of one, too,” added Ben. “I met a dragon once, years ago, a rather less violent meeting than Gerald had. He said he had been hatched on a continent named Bandalorin. I managed to trick him into leaving, and he flew off to the east.. This is why Gerald traveled east to find a continent.”
“Did the dragon actually speak to you in Humanish?” asked Deacon, surprised.
“Yes. I didn’t think about it at the time, but it must be strange that he did. I was young and ignorant, and assumed that everyone spoke Humanish.”
“Did he describe Bandalorin to you, even a little bit?” asked Titus. “Are there people there? Cities, towns? Any details at all?”
“No, only the name, and that it was a home to many dragons. He also told me that dragons live very long lives. He tried to snatch me with his tongue, but I cut off the end of it. He howled, but in a few minutes his tongue was totally healed. The piece I cut off was still at my feet; he had regrown his tongue.”
“Amazing! Most amazing,” cried Theodore. “But we’re not really interested in the dragons. We started talking about them, but, as Boltimar said, all we can think about now is this new continent. As a merchant, I am always looking for new markets, new products, new things to make money from. An entire continent full of foods, fabrics, maybe even jewels we’ve never seen before. This is a merchant’s dream.
“Not just for me, or my friends here, either. The portals your wizards are setting up everywhere will make it possible for merchants from all over Orilon will be able to deal with these foreigners. The people who provide us with goods will share in our prosperity. Even the men who drive our wagons will be better off with more trade. It’s also good for the treasuries of the nobles of Orilon.”
“The question is, how do we get there?” observed Boltimar. “Gerald tells me his portal was broken by the dragon. He added that he and you set up a new pair of portals, but they were burned when Worneconto torched his school. Do we have to repeat his strange air voyage to find this continent again? He says he left a thing called a ‘jump disk’ behind. I understand it helps a wizard travel without a portal, but I’m a little uncertain of how it works. Can a wizard just go to it whenever he wants?”
“Mostly,” explained Ben. “The disk is a target for us to focus on. When a man on horseback travels a long distance he can see a mountain off in the distance. As long as he’s going toward that mountain, he knows he’s on the right path. That’s his target. A jump disk is a bit like that, but, well, condensed. We can concentrate and envision the disk. Once we ‘feel’ the disk we can just travel magically to it.
“We try to get a sense of the disk’s surroundings before we go. We can’t see the disk clearly or what’s around it. It’s like being in a thick fog. Even so, we have an idea of where people are, and furniture, and holes. Some of my young students, playing around while drinking, once tried to ‘jump’ on top of each other. It was stupid. Careless. Nevertheless useful. We learned that the jumper did not jump inside the other person, only on top of him, and then fell off. It was good to learn this. Still, landing on top of someone is still dangerous.”
“I’ve can focus on that disk,” confessed Gerald, “but I don’t know how far away that disk is. I can jump from Gorbal to Ithenu, in the west of Orilon. That’s a long distance. This new continent is probably farther off. When Ben and I went, he helped me make the jump.”
“Does that matter?” asked Jedidiah. “If you know where the disk is, does the distance matter?”
“Oh, yes,” Ben instructed him. “If you were trying to leap physically across a ditch, you’d want to know just how wide that ditch was. The effort to make the leap depends on the distance. Same for a wizard. Young student wizards often fall short of their targets. It takes practice, and a strong mind, to go a long distance.”
“So, is there any way to do this?” asked Oliver. “If the portal is destroyed, and the distance is too far to do your jump, how can we get there? The same way Gerald did? He says he almost missed seeing the land. If we did miss sighting it, how far would we go? Could we be stranded way out in the ocean?”
“Gerald and I have already made the trip,” volunteered Ben. “I have trained my mind to a greater level than most other wizards. Many will be as strong in time, but they haven’t spent the years working on mental strength that I have. This meant I could offer Gerald a little help. Normally, if the wizard can sense the jump disk, he can jump there. He just has to put enough effort into his jump. We can do this again, bringing new portals.
“We set up a compound, surrounded by air walls, with the portals inside it. We simply replace those with the new ones, and anybody can go visit this new land. Any explorers should be armed and wearing armor, because we don’t know what to expect. Not that armor will protect against a dragon.”
“What about dangers from people?” asked Cyrus. “I’m a military man, not much interested in trade or studying things. But I can see that a portal to another continent could be just like the portals we used to storm this castle last month. If we can go there, people over there can come here, right? How do we protect against that?”
“The standard portal has a removable piece,” Ben explained. “Pick up this piece from the door sill, and the portal is broken until the piece is put back. If we find hostile people over there, we can lock them out. The scholars should concern themselves about how to talk to any people over there. It’s quite possible they don’t speak our language.”
“You said the dragon spoke to you in Humanish,” argued Anders. “If he came from another continent, then they must also speak Humanish.”
“Possibly” countered Ben, “but he said he’d been living in Orilon for many centuries. Maybe he learned to speak Humanish because that’s what we speak here. I’m sorry to say I didn’t ask a lot of the questions you would have asked him.”
“Gentlemen, it is getting very late,” announced Boltimar. “I suggest we adjourn for the night. Ben, when can you make this jump? Will you be able to help us with any further work?”
“I can go tomorrow. I will take two portals to replace the burned ones. One connected to Gerald’s school, and one to your castle courtyard. If one is damaged somehow, the other will provide an escape route. After this, however, I will beg off from other work on this project. I find it very interesting, but it would take up too much of my time. I have other duties and interests.
“I was once the only wizard in Orilon. Now there are many of us, and most are as capable as I am. I don’t have to do all the wizard work anymore. Gerald is quite competent, more than competent in most areas of magic. He doesn’t have my long experience, but I have helped train him and know his abilities. Anything you would ask me to do, he is quite able to do for you as well as I could.”
***
The next morning Ben prepared himself for a long jump. He was not worried about his mental strength. The surgery a month earlier had been perfect, a combination of good wizards, skilled healers, and the attention of the Goddess of Healing Herself. However, this was a very long jump across an unknown distance to a place he had only seen once.
He thought carefully for several minutes, trying to find the small disk a very long ways off. He found it, the image of the mountain helping him focus better. He picked up the portal halves and jumped.
The air walled enclosure was still intact, though the dragon seemed to be in worse condition. He erected the new portals, put a note on the old ones to indicate they weren’t in use anymore, and returned to Boltimar’s castle’s courtyard.
Boltimar, his wife, his council from the night before, and the wizards all went through the portal into the new land. They were startled to see the headless dragon so close by. Cyrus, with a military man’s caution, looked overhead for more dragons.
“Don’t worry, Cyrus,” mentioned Ben reassuringly, “We’ve built a box with air walls, and a roof to protect this camp. This portal here against the wall is connected to another doorway against the outside of this wall. Dragons, lions, bears, other beasts won’t be able to go through if the people inside remember to take up the sill piece and lock the portal.”
They all went out to look at the dragon, and the rest of this new place. The dragon was impressive, both because of its size, but also because most of it was missing. Something had torn its body open and none of its flesh remained. Scales littered the scene, while the skin held a collapsed collection of bones.
“By Holy Grasilos, what a find!” exclaimed Anders. “A dragon, minus its head, which Gerald has, complete and intact. The skeleton, the skin, the scales. What a display this will make in our museum!”
“When you start your serious exploration of this land,” commented Ben, “you should look for a dragon’s lair. It will probably contain a great many scales the dragon has shed over the years. They will sell for a very high price, and finance your research. The dragon’s skin is also valuable. In the old days, wizards used it to bind their grimoires. Any book bound in dragon hide will be protected from rot, mildew, worms, any of the normal dangers to books.”
“So we could start hunting dragons and make a lot of money,” considered Oliver. “We merchants can easily afford to hire good warriors to do the hunting, especially if the rewards are great.”
“The dangers are even greater,” warned Ben. “Dragons are hard to kill, and quite prepared to kill humans first. Look at Gerald, who barely escaped alive. Their scales are tougher than you might imagine. My knife is magically sharpened, and will cut through any leather or flesh, anything but metal. Look, see how little damage it does to this scale?
“The dragon I met said that wizards hunted them before and during the Big War. They wanted to use dragon’s blood and other parts for some magical feat. I have never seen any record of such a feat, but all my grimoires and books were written before the Big War. I was able to frighten that dragon with the possibility that I could kill him magically. With magic, it might be possible to kill a dragon; without magic, I doubt it could be done.”
“What could have ripped open this huge body and eaten it?” asked Deacon. “These scales are hard as steel, as you say, and the skin is thick as well.”
“Another dragon, probably,” replied Titus. “I hope so, at least, because I do not want to meet some other unknown animal that would be that powerful. Once the body was open, the normal scavengers would feast on what was left. It’s been here for well over a month, plenty of time to be stripped down.”
“That will make it easier to transport back to Immingham,” suggested Anders. “Gerald, I never used them, but I know that the portal network had some very wide portals for wagons. Could you set one of those up here for us to remove this amazing carcass?”
“Ben, I’m going to need some help here,” moaned Gerald. “I can’t run a school and give these scholars and the others all the help they will need. Do you have any recent graduates who need work? I can’t use half-trained people the way Mandy and Walter do. They only need someone to set up portals, which is easy. I will need a fully trained wizard to handle the portals, jumping, finding hidden things, I keep thinking of new things for a wizard to do here.”
“I’ve got some students who are trying to think of magical work. They don’t have the best teaching manner, although they know a lot. They’re too well trained for the portal network, and haven’t found their own specialty yet. I’ll send some to you to look over.”
“I haven’t officially become a count, but already I think like one,” wondered Boltimar. “Who owns this land? Do I, since we left my county to come here? Is there anyone else in Orilon who could claim it? Is it off the coast of some other noble’s realm?”
“Or, is it owned by someone locally?” countered Polly. “We haven’t seen any sign of humans yet, but there are places in the wilder parts of Orilon where one could say the same. Maybe there’s a town just beyond that mountain. Or down along that coast.”
“That will mean work for me,” said Titus. “I have studied all the languages of Orilon. That probably means nothing at all here. A different continent, with no contact with Orilon, ever. There can’t be any similarity of languages. Even within Orilon, Elvish, Dwarvish, and Trollish are nothing like Humanish. Or each other. It will be a real challenge to learn an entirely new language.”
“Yes, there must be humans here someplace,” agreed Boltimar. “In fact, if there aren’t, Theodore and his merchant friends will have no one to trade with. So, how do we go about exploring this place, Ben? Do we just start out from here, walking up and down this mountain, looking for people? Is there some better way to find the local population?”
“I would leave all the scholars, merchants, and warriors at home,” advised Ben. “They could spend weeks walking around and not find anything. You lived in Wilu. Think how much of that realm is still loosely populated. A mountain does not always have crowds living near it. The sea coast down below may have reefs that make it inhospitable to ships, hence no towns there. Someone searching on the ground can only see so far, and can overlook things.
“Let the wizards I send to Gerald do the beginning exploration. They can fly through the air, and see distant things as if they were up close. By flying, they can cover in one day what a man on foot would take a week to travel. They can see towns long before they get to them. They can see the smoke rising from the chimneys of a town even sooner.
“Once they’ve found a town, they can dismiss these air walls and move the portals to a place near that town. Set up new air walls to protect themselves, and send for Titus. And for Theodore. I understand that even trolls can trade with others without a common language. Theodore offers a pile of Gorbal products and points to a pile of local stuff. That’s trade, isn’t it, Theodore?”
“Crude, basic, but it does work,” agreed Theodore. “I wish we could start now, just to see what the people here have to offer us.”
“Gerald, do you understand what I’ve described?” asked Ben. “Worneconto’s trial starts in a few days, and I want to stay in Gorbal for that. Then I want to go back home. This isn’t my future, it’s yours, and the others in Gorbal. Pick a couple, at least, of good assistants from the graduates I send you, and give them their freedom to act. And good luck to you all.”
***
The day before the trial began workmen built a platform in the large meadow just outside Immingham's north gate. It was normally used for sporting competitions and fairs. Now, the huge numbers of people expected to attend the trial necessitated a new use. The ground was consecrated as a courtroom in the name of the God Fostenaris, who would guarantee a fair trial. The jury would stand in front of the platform. There were seats for Worneconto and his defenders, for Vincenzo and his supporters, and for Orlando as judge. Behind them was raised a statue of the God Fostenaris.
A dozen or so barons attended, along with a few dozen leading men from the towns, scores of peasants from every village in the county, and everyone else who wanted to be there. The field was crowded, but the atmosphere was jovial and friendly. Barons’ sons greeted peasants as old friends. The most important day of their lives was going to be enjoyed to the full.
There wasn’t any doubt about the outcome, as Boltimar had predicted. The old count had offended too many people in his years ruling Gorbal. Too many farms, or even estates, seized without proper legal steps. Too many men impoverished by over-taxation. Too many people whipped, imprisoned, exiled, or hanged for no good reason. Worneconto’s foul temper and hostility to everyone made the trial short.
The guilty verdict was easy, three votes after no debate. The penalty was more difficult to handle. The peasants wanted to give Worneconto what he had often given them, a good hanging. Many of the townsmen felt the same way. They had not suffered as many hangings as the peasants had, but it was a common punishment for law-breakers in their towns.
The barons balked at the idea of hanging a nobleman. They realized they were out-voted, two to one on the sentencing, but they made their case for beheading all the same. Some of the townsmen saw this as a reasonable alternative, and the vote began to shift. Shifting didn’t help, though. Half the towns agreed on hanging, the other half on beheading.
The spokesmen for the three sections of the jury appealed to Boltimar for a decision, since they couldn’t agree on one. He sighed, unhappy to be forced to name the penalty.
“People of Gorbal,” he called out to them with a strongvoice, a magical device that made one’s voice heard over a large area. “I asked you to decide the fate of Worneconto because I did not want to make that decision. Too often he used his power to punish people improperly. I do not want to be seen doing the same thing. I have a deep personal interest in seeing him punished severely. My feelings should not influence my decision. You, too, have strong feelings about him and his fate. But your joint decision will be less arbitrary than my single voice.
“I have no preference about Worneconto’s fate, merely that he be permanently removed from power here. I don’t want to begin my reign by ordering anyone’s death, even his. I ask you to talk together once more, and try to agree on a suitable punishment.”
“Your Excellency, may I suggest something?” asked Ben, sitting beside him on the dais. “We have just discovered a new land, a continent far away over the seas. A place which can only be reached by some sort of magical travel. Banish Worneconto there. He will never be able to return. You can build him a simple house to live in, enclosed by air walls to keep him safe from wild animals. You can send him food and drink by way of a portal. He will be alive, true, but alive where he can no longer harm any of your people.”
Boltimar repeated Ben’s suggestion over the strongvoice, and the crowd roared its approval. No one would bear the responsibility of ordering the old count’s execution, however well deserved. Many saw, too, that a life in exile, penned in by invisible walls, without friends or power, would be a sentence even more hateful to Worneconto than death.