The Archmage Unbound (2 page)

“What is the third message?”

I smiled. “That’s for the king’s ears alone;
otherwise there’d be no purpose for our private chat.”

Cyhan mounted the horse and looked down at me. I
could see a dozen possible responses flickering across his features, but in the
end he left with a simple statement, “I regret our next meeting Mordecai.” The
calm confidence in those words sent a chill down my spine but I shrugged it
off. I hadn’t come this far by giving in to fear. I watched him ride for long
minutes with my eyes and I continued to follow his progress with my arcane
senses even after the trees had obscured him from view.

Since Penny and I had broken the bond my ‘magesight’
had returned to its previous acuity. If I focused my attention I could sense
things slightly more than a mile away. If I was following a particular person
or thing I could stretch that limit even further, to something approaching a
mile and a half. As far as I could tell, that was the limit of my ‘wizardly’
senses, but I was beginning to learn that there were other ways to experience
the world.

Cyhan and the horse I had given him were passing
beyond my normal limit now, and still they seemed to be headed in the proper
direction, south, toward the capital. I decided to test my newer abilities and
took a deep breath, stilling my mind and listening quietly to the voices that
surrounded me. As usual the first sensation was one of confusion, much like
walking into a crowded room filled with a hundred different conversations. The
key was to relax and listen, till you could locate the sound of a familiar
voice and begin to make sense of their conversation. This time I had a
particular voice in mind and I focused on the susurrations of the wind. Over
the past month I had discovered that the wind is a capricious and chaotic
entity, at times soft and gentle it could turn wild with little notice. I felt
my mind expanding as I followed its random eddies and currents until I was
swept out into an ever larger sky filled with scattered clouds and warm
sunshine. As my world expanded I struggled to keep part of my attention upon
the terrain near Lancaster, and one particular rider on a road not too far from
the castle.

He was still heading south, though I wasn’t sure why
I cared anymore. For some reason I had yet to comprehend, the wider I spread
my awareness the less I cared about the particulars. The real skill lay in
balancing the knowledge of the carefree wind against the well-defined questions
of my all too limited human mind. If I opened myself too much I would forget
my reasons for looking and be swept away in daydreams of swaying trees and
rushing clouds, not enough and I wouldn’t be able to find the information I
wanted.

I stood there, transfixed for what may have been an
hour, or a full day… time no longer seemed relevant. I had watched the tiny
rider and his mount pass beyond the border of Lancaster but they no longer
interested me. What really fascinated me now were the great currents of air
that drove the clouds to the south and east. I could feel myself spreading
ever further as the sun poured through me, illuminating the earth below and
casting dappled shadows from the clouds upon the ground…

“Mordecai!” Someone was shouting into my ear
again. The voice seemed familiar. I blinked, which was a strange sensation
for I couldn’t recall having something periodically blocking my vision like
this before. Something stood before me, a strange creature with soft filaments
of reddish gold streaming around it… what was that called again?
Hair I
think, that’s what I used to call it,
I thought to myself. She was also
waving her appendages at me…
She?
What does that mean?
I
wondered.

At last my fragmented thoughts began to come
together and I realized that Ariadne Lancaster was standing in front of me,
waving her hands in my face to get my attention. “Mordecai! Can you hear me?
Look at me!” she said, sounding alarmed. Things snapped into focus at last, and
my eyes locked onto hers.

“Ariadne?” I said stupidly. “What’s wrong?”
Ariadne was my best friend Marcus Lancaster’s younger sister. Although she was
a few years younger than us she had developed into a stunning beauty, much like
her mother. Red gold hair framed a pixie’s face that was currently marred by a
look of concern.

“I should be the one asking that question,” she
replied. “You’ve been standing in the yard out here all afternoon. I came out
to talk to you earlier but you seemed entranced so I left you alone.”

“All afternoon…” I mumbled. I was still having a
little trouble getting my mind wrapped around the meaning of the words.

“Yes, all afternoon. When I came back to check on
you just now I got a bit worried, you were sort of transparent and you looked
as though you might start to float away. I started yelling to get your
attention and I tried to grab your shoulder but I couldn’t get a hold on you.
My hand went right through you.” She paused and slapped my arm. “You seem
perfectly solid now though. What were you doing?”

“I’m not sure,” I said idly. “I was monitoring
Cyhan’s progress out of Lancaster… I think.”

“You’re not sure? It took me several minutes just
to get your attention; you were looking straight through me as though I wasn’t
even there. Were you able to tell if he went the right direction?” she asked.
The wind had died down and her hair was lying calmly across her shoulders now.

“I’m sure of that. He went south, heading toward
Albamarl. If he’s planning to double back he went an awfully long way before
changing directions.” A stray thought passed through my mind,
her hair
looked better with the wind in it.
A sudden playful gust picked a lock of
hair up and tossed it about.
Did I do that?
I wondered but I couldn’t
be sure. I hadn’t used my power; the wind seemed to move of its own accord.

“Focus, Mordecai.” Ariadne snapped her fingers in
front of my face. “Your eyes were drifting away again. Am I going to have to
talk to Penny about you?”

“No I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m just trying to get used
to some of my abilities.” In truth I really wasn’t certain. “What did you
want to talk to me about… before I frightened you?” I forcefully drew my mind
in on itself and began walking toward the main keep.

Ariadne kept pace with me as she responded, “I
wanted to ask you about Marcus. How has he been?”

Her brother hadn’t returned to Lancaster after the
end of our battle with Gododdin’s army. His goddess had refused to heal Penny
when she was mortally wounded, ostensibly because Penny and I had broken the
bond that shielded my mind. That refusal had led Marc to reject her and the
resulting void within him had left him despondent and a bit lost. He had been
staying with me at Castle Cameron since then but I hadn’t been able to draw him
out much. Naturally his parents and siblings were worried about him.

“He’s about the same,” I replied. “I convinced him
to have a few drinks with me and Dorian the other day but he wasn’t very
jovial.”

Her brows pinched together in an expression of
concern. “I wish he would come home for a while. Maybe I could talk some
sense into him.”

I sincerely doubted having his younger sister
nagging at him would help, but I didn’t dare tell her that, instead I used my
considerable powers of misdirection to rephrase my thoughts. “I don’t think
having your father lecturing him would help much right now.” I do seem to be
gaining some wisdom as time goes on.

“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “Will you be
staying for dinner or returning home right away?”

I honestly hadn’t given it much thought. My focus
had been entirely on how to handle Cyhan when I rode out that morning. I was
pretty sure Penelope expected me home for dinner that evening though. “I
hadn’t planned on staying this late actually. But if you like we could have
dinner here tomorrow evening. I’m sure Dorian would like an excuse to visit
his mother as well.” Dorian was living with us in Washbrook now, serving as my
seneschal and master at arms.

“Is Rose still staying with you? If so you should
extend the invitation to her as well,” Ariadne added, giving me an impish
grin. She seemed to like Rose Hightower; she had looked up to her as a young girl.
I suspected she had some ulterior motive though. I didn’t doubt that she was
plotting to fix Rose and Dorian up together. Penny had similar ideas though I
wasn’t sure I approved of their meddling, as far as I could tell the two of
them would be just fine if everyone left them alone.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving her out,” I answered
politely. Our steps had brought us to the building James had had constructed
to hold the teleportation circles I created in Lancaster. “I will have to say
good-bye, I need to return. I didn’t expect to spend so much time standing in
the courtyard.”

“Give Penelope my regards. I do hope you can both
visit for dinner tomorrow,” she replied.

“I can’t imagine anything that would keep us from
the invitation,” I said with a smile, and then with a thought and a word I
teleported back to Castle Cameron.

The hall was empty when I stepped out of the alcove
in Castle Cameron. I felt a bit relieved actually. Lately I had been besieged
by various people needing me to make decisions about this and that. The castle
itself had survived our recent war with little damage, aside from the one wall
that was breached. Repairs there were proceeding rapidly and soon enough I
would have the workmen starting on a new outer wall to encircle the rest of the
rapidly growing town of Washbrook.

With some luck I might be able to reach my workshop
without encountering anyone needing me to make pressing decisions. I had taken
over my father’s smithy and expanded it to suit my needs. I doubted I would
ever become a master smith as he had been, but I did frequently work with metal
and the forge was quite handy when I needed it. There might have been a few
sentimental reasons as well, but I tried not to dwell on those.

I waved at Cecil Draper as I left the main door of
the keep and headed across the yard. My luck didn’t hold though, Cecil left
his post and ran up to me before I could get ten steps toward the smithy. “My
lord! Sir Dorian asked me to let you know he was looking for you.”

I stopped and gave him a gracious smile, “And where
would my friend be presently?” I really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Dorian
just then but I always tried to be polite in dealing with the people who
supported, and were dependent, upon me.

“He said he would be at the tavern my lord,” Cecil
replied quickly. I nodded and changed direction. The tavern he was referring
to was operated and maintained by Joe McDaniel, a good friend of Dorian’s and
also the head of our town militia now. After things had quieted down I had
given him the house Penny and I had lived in (before the castle was completed)
and he had made great strides in having it remodeled into a serviceable tavern.

I spotted the large wooden sign soon enough, gaily
painted with a large pig covered in mud. The artistic rendering had been
inspired by my first meeting with the Baron of Arundel, on which occasion I had
slathered myself with mud to better make a good impression. Taverns
traditionally had simple names that could be depicted with pictures since many
people couldn’t read. This one had the words, ‘The Muddy Pig’ written
carefully under the picture. It was a bit embarrassing that they had chosen my
meeting with Arundel to use for the name of the tavern but hopefully people
would soon forget the meaning behind the name.

I stepped through the doorway and let my eyes adjust
to the somewhat dimmer interior; it was twilight outside and the lamps inside
hadn’t been lit yet. The evening crowd had barely begun to gather so I didn’t
have too much trouble spotting Dorian sitting at the end of the bar. “Ho,
Dorian!” I shouted to catch his attention. “Cecil said you were looking for
me?”

My large friend’s head turned as he heard my voice
and his eyes lit upon me. “Mort! Glad you’re back. How did it go?”

Naturally he was referring to my visit with Cyhan.
“I let him go and he told me I was a fool,” I said, summing up my previous
conversation for him.

Dorian snorted, “You are, and a stubborn one at
that. I still think it’s a mistake.”

“Only time will tell my friend, surely you didn’t
want me just so you could nag about a mistake already made?” I hid my
impatience poorly.

“In a hurry to get back to work again? Sit down,
you can spare a few minutes. Have a drink.” He waved at Joe who had been listening
intently and the older man went to draw a tankard for me. “It’s about Marc,”
he added.

“Ariadne was asking about him as well,” I told him.

“She’s right to be worried, he isn’t getting any
better.”

“He’s just depressed. He’ll snap out of it eventually.
He seemed alright when we were together the other night,” I said.

“That’s the only time, when he’s with us, and drunk…
we can’t do that every day,” Dorian answered. It was odd to hear him urging
sobriety, since reaching his majority Dorian had shown a great fondness for
drinking.

“Where is he today? I notice you’re sitting here
alone,” I remarked pointedly.