Read The Haunted Wizard - Wiz in Rhym-6 Online
Authors: Christopher Stasheff
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Fantasy Fiction, #Fantasy - General, #American Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Fantasy Fiction; American, #Wizards, #Fantasy - Series
"Majesty," she said, "you have."
Brion turned back to Lord Orizhan. "Take your squire now, and tarry with us two more days, then be off to Merovence and the south!"
Lord Orizhan bowed and stepped back as the crowd cheered.
"It would seem they approve of the king's justice," Papa said. They stood in the sanctuary with the highest lords, but far enough away from Brion to get away with muttering.
"He decided well," Matt said, "but he was still eating his heart out about it last night when I left him. It sort of condones the killing of the heir apparent, you see, providing you're the agent of the new king, and that bodes ill for Brion's children, if he has any."
"How did he decide?"
Matt shrugged. "I left him to talk it out with Rosamund."
"Of course." Mama smiled. "I have a feeling our princess of Merovence will have a great deal to do with the governing of this land, though I doubt she'll want it known."
"Yes—everybody and his brother would be pestering her for favors," Matt said. "Better to let Brion be the heat shield. That's what a king is for, isn't it?"
"One of the things," Papa agreed.
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"What has he decided to do with Niobhyte?" Mama asked.
"He can't quite see his way clear to killing him in his sleep," Matt said, "especially since he feels any man should have one last chance at repentance and confession—but I pointed out that if he wakes Niobhyte at all, there might be hell to pay."
"Literally," Papa said darkly. "So?"
"There's a promising young wizard in the Abbey of Glastonbury," Matt said. Mama turned to him, staring. "A monk who is a wizard?"
Matt shrugged. "We don't choose our talents, Mama, or our vocations, as you kept pointing out to me during my teen years."
"Well, that is true," Mama said, frowning.
"When the young monk is a mature monk," Matt said, "and I'm convinced he's powerful enough to handle a wide-awake Niobhyte, I'll come back and stand guard while the kid offers him one last chance at redemption. Then Brion will hold a very quick trial and an execution."
"Whether Niobhyte repents or not?"
"Right" Matt shuddered. "It doesn't feel right, but Brion is convinced it's the only way to go. Me, I just hope Niobhyte doesn't find some way to wake up before then."
"If his synthodruids are imprisoned or converted, he shouldn't," Papa said. "What will you do with them?"
"Brion is sending out all the young knights who are eager for reputation to scour the kingdom looking for false druids, and is sending the word to all his reeves and magistrates, too. If they find any, they'll arrest them fast."
"But most of them fled south," Mama pointed out.
Matt nodded. "I had Stegoman do a reconnaissance, and most of them are indeed on the new Isle of Jersey. They're going crazy without congregations to boss, trying to pull rank on each other."
"And what do you mean to do about them?"
"I've already done it." Matt grinned. "I put Buckeye into a magical sleep and hired a fisherman to row him to Jersey. He woke up as soon as the boat landed and went ashore." He shrugged. "From there on he's just following his natural inclinations. By this time next month any druids who haven't sacrificed one another should be more than ready to surrender and repent"
Papa grinned. "Then you have managed to pass the bauchan!"
"That is the one last service you asked of him, then?" Mama asked, smiling.
"Yes, and I certainly do hope it will be the last… Whup! Next part of the ceremony, folks!"
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Hidden musicians peeled forth a solemn but joyous tune, and the crowd parted to form an aisle. Down it came Rosamund, dressed and veiled in white lace, a bouquet in her hands. Lord Orizhan had ducked around to take his place beside her.
As she came up to the altar, Lord Orizhan gave her to Brion, who clasped her hands, eyes wide and incredulous as he stared through the gossamer at her shining, but demure, face.
"This is how it should end," Mama said with a sigh. "This is how it should always end."
"Yes, but also how it should begin," Papa said, with a meaningful glance at his son, "for this is only a wedding. Now begins their greatest work—building a marriage."
"You don't have to tell me" Matt gazed at the couple kneeling before the archbishop, but he was really seeing Alisande.
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