Seven Words of Power (10 page)
Read Seven Words of Power Online
Authors: James Maxwell
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Epic, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages)
A punch was thrown, and Massimo wondered if he should do something. Suddenly he heard a great crash from behind him, like the breaking of glass, followed by a woman’s scream.
Massimo halted the drudge and turned. He had somehow hit another cart, although he didn’t see how it was possible. A woman held both hands to her face and had turned in the driver's seat to look in the back of her cart, sobbing with great heaves of her chest.
Massimo looked ahead but the argument had ended; the two men were gone. He hopped down from his cart and ran over to the woman's cart.
“What’s wrong?” Massimo asked. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“What’s wrong?” the woman shrieked. “What’s wrong? You hit me, that’s what’s wrong! I was trying to get your attention but you kept looking at that fight!”
“I… I don’t see how I could have. And even if I did bump your cart, you're unharmed, aren't you? Perhaps you’re just a little shaken?”
“Look!” the woman cried, standing and pointing into the back of her cart.
Massimo looked over the edge of the woman’s cart at where she pointed.
He couldn’t tell what it had once been, but it was now just a jumble of broken wood and pieces of shattered glass. “What… what is it?” Massimo ventured.
“It was my lady’s jewelry box, that’s what it was.” The woman started to sob again.
“Oh. Is it valuable?”
“Worth at least fifteen silver deens!”
“Really? That much?” Massimo wondered what he should do. He had close to twenty-one deens. Had he really hit her cart? He was certain he hadn’t.
“You owe me,” the woman said. “Or my master’s going to have me hung.”
“Hung?” Massimo said incredulously. “Surely not.”
“You don’t sound Louan,” the woman said. “What would you know about how we servants are treated? Please,” her voice turned wheedling, “give me fifteen deens?”
Massimo thought about returning to Ralanast with nothing but a story about his careless handling of the drudge, leading to the loss of most of his money.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I can’t.”
“What if I give you this cart? It’s the only thing of value I own. You could hitch the drudge beside yours and have a train of two wagons.”
“Your cart?” Massimo thought. It was certainly worth at least fifteen silver deens. He made a decision. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you the gilden, and you give me the cart. You can buy a new jewelry box and you won't be punished.”
“Oh, thank you,” the woman said. “Thank you, kind sir.”
A moment later Massimo was again moving slowly though the throng of the market, but this time he had two drudges side by side in front, and a second cart behind. He still had six silver deens, and he decided he’d already made a profit on the journey.
“That’s my cart!” a voice challenged. “And that’s my drudge!”
Massimo decided that this time he wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted. The last thing he needed was another mishap.
“You,” the voice called. “I’m talking to you!”
Massimo heard the sound of running feet, and, turning, he saw a man running toward him, a wooden club in his hand. It was one of the burly men who had been arguing in the street, just before Massimo had hit the woman’s cart.
Massimo looked around for some kind of weapon.
“That’s my cart, and that’s my drudge,” the burly man said again, as he drew puffing up to Massimo. He spoke some words and Massimo’s newest drudge stopped in its tracks. Massimo was forced to halt his own drudge.
“What do you mean?” Massimo asked. “I just bought it.”
“Bought it? From who?”
“A woman…”
“What was her name? Did she run a shop? You’ve been taken, friend. My cart was stolen from me just this morning.”
“That’s not possible…” Massimo said.
“It certainly is. Now give it back.”
“I can’t!”
“Oh, yes you can.”
In the end, the burly man took both Massimo’s cart and his own. He also left Massimo with just two of his six silver deens, and a lump on his head the size of a boy’s fist.
Massimo decided it was time to return to Ralanast.
~
At least he still had his map. Walking on the road, back the way he had come, Massimo at least knew how to get home.
He needed food but he decided to save the two silver deens. He had enough copper cendeens that he would be able to eat, provided he was frugal, and provided he slept in forests and hedges. Suddenly the two silver coins were as precious to him as the waxed map he carried under his arm.
He was still in Louan lands when clouds gathered overhead and the weather turned cold. It began to rain, a freezing drizzle that grew heavier as Massimo pushed against it. Some of the raindrops fell more slowly than others, and Massimo soon saw flakes of snow, first in a sparse flutter, then in a whirling flurry. A chill wind blew down from the icy north.
Massimo pulled the thick cloak around his body, glad for its warmth. His brother had given it to him as a gift, and Massimo suddenly longed to see him again, to feel Alonzo ruffling the hair on his head, telling him that life was full of surprises, yet a generous heart could achieve anything.
Massimo wondered if Alonzo was wrong. Perhaps Massimo was too generous, and rather than listening to the tavern keeper’s advice he shouldn’t have bought all that liquor. Perhaps rather than assuming the two men on the road were lost, he should have assumed they were up to no good. Perhaps rather than trusting the woman who had sold him the cart he should have been more suspicious.
The weather turned colder still and Massimo's breath steamed in the frigid air as he shivered. The snow began to obscure his vision and he decided it was time to look for shelter. There weren't many trees around, but scanning, he saw a small copse of evergreens up ahead where he could wait out the storm.
“Who goes there?” a voice called as Massimo reached the spiky barrier of the largest of the trees’ hanging branches.
“A traveler, looking for shelter,” Massimo called out.
He pushed through the branches to the small protected space underneath. It was still freezing in here, but at least it was out of the wind.
Massimo’s eyes widened in surprise. An old man – at least ten years older than his father – sat with a small boy in his arms, the child clutched to his chest. Both were shivering uncontrollably, lips blue and faces pale. Massimo realized with a start that they were both drenched to the skin.
“Please, help us,” the old man said. “Our carriage fell into the river, not far from here, and we almost drowned.”
Massimo quickly took stock of the situation. “Do you have an igniter?” he asked.
The old man nodded, producing a long-stemmed igniter of Louan manufacture. “It works,” he said, “but the wood is too wet.” He weakly gestured to the pile of twigs at his feet.
Massimo took off his cloak, passing it to the old man. “Take off your clothes,” he said. “You’ll die if you keep your wet clothes on. Then wrap this around the both of you.”
Massimo crouched down next to the stack of wood and took out his waxed map. He began to tear it into thin strips.
“Is that important?” the old man asked.
“I’m not going to let a boy freeze to death,” Massimo said.
He built a triangular stack, with smaller twigs clustered around scrunched up pieces of the waxed paper. The old man handed out the igniter, his hand shaking as he did.
Massimo activated the device, and as heat immediately radiated from its tip, he touched it to each piece of paper in turn. Massimo watched the fire travel over the map, forever destroying the mountains, borders and rivers that had been painstakingly drawn on the paper. The flame curled and caught onto the smallest sticks, and then the larger ones.
As Massimo fed the fire, color gradually returned to the old man’s cheeks, and the boy in his arms started to stir.
“My grandson,” the old man said. He looked up at Massimo. “Thank you.”
~
Massimo returned to Ralanast at the end of his month, marveling at all he’d seen and done. He rode atop a new cart, a wide wagon with a roof over his head and a shiny red seat. In front of him a team of two drudges plodded with synchronized steps, the runes on their limbs glowing softly but steadily.
As he reached the sign that said Giorgio Sarto and Son Trading Merchants, Massimo glanced behind him at the bed of the cart, just to make sure it was all still there. He grinned. The cart was filled with Louan devices: timepieces, seekers, oracles and igniters. No prismatic orbs though; Lord Haruth had said merchants needed a special license to trade them.
It turned out the old man was a Louan lord. He had asked Massimo what he could give in thanks, and when Massimo had said he needed a new map to find his way home, the old man had laughed, clapping him on the back, and said he could do much better than that.
Massimo waved when he saw his father and brother up ahead. He halted the cart and clambered down until he was standing on the ground.
“Where’s my cart?” Giorgio demanded, coming to stand beside him.
“I’ve brought you a new cart, Father.” Massimo beamed.
Alonzo laughed. “Well done,” he said, clapping Massimo on the back. “I knew you could do it.”
“Look in the back,” Massimo said.
Giorgio didn’t move. Alonzo shrugged and jumped up onto the side of the cart, peering in.
“Lord of the Earth,” Alonzo said, whistling. “Louan devices! There must be a thousand deens worth.” Alonzo jumped back down. “You should look, Father. You won’t believe it!”
Massimo spoke. “Father,” he said, “I saved two silver deens from the trip, and I had this made.”
Massimo climbed up to the driving seat and brought down the sign. He handed it proudly to his father.
“It’s the same as before, just with a small change,” Massimo said.
“Giorgio Sarto and
Sons
,” Alonzo read out loud, smiling.
“Father, you've always asked Alonzo what he’s learned, but you've never asked me.”
“I never knew that,” Giorgio said softly. “Surely that’s not true…” He gathered himself. “What have you learned?”
“I learned that Alonzo is a very good trader. I suppose I always knew it. He’s the right man to take over from you. I learned that I have the capacity to learn, and that I’m ready to start. I learned that there’s no substitute for wisdom, and I learned that a generous heart isn’t always rewarded, but that’s no reason not to try.”
“Good lessons,” Giorgio said. He took the sign from Massimo’s hands. He clapped his son on the back. “Let’s take down the old sign and hang this one up.”
Novels by James Maxwell
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