Master Novice - Part 09

"Awright, travelers, what's yer destination?"

Hank turned to the gate guard. "For tonight, the nearest inn."

The guard looked the group over. "Dismount and tie yer horses to th' hitchin' post. Go into th' office and get yer day pass."

Hank looked where the guard indicated. There were so many horses at the hitching post that he couldn't see the post itself. He turned back to gate guard and asked, "Why do we need a day pass?"

The guard shrugged. "Dunno. Them's th' rules.

"Is there some other place we could tie up?"

The guard grunted and said, "Ya could leave yer horses anywheres, but that's th' only post that I'm 'sponsible fer."

Diana said, "Hank, if we tie them in a train, I can stay out here and watch them."

Hank nodded. Within a few minutes, the horses had been tied together, and the group sans Diana entered the "office."

After waiting for a couple of hours in line, they finally got up to the desk. The bored-looking clerk sitting behind it didn't even look up as he read off his litany: "Day passes are one copper common each person, six days is five commons, a fortnight is a silver bright. We only take local money - the moneylender's next door. We don't take gold at this office - make sure to get silver or copper. If you want to immigrate, talk to the magistrate once you're in town. If you're here to sell, get your peddler's license at the magistrate's office. What'll it be?"

Hank asked, "Why do you only take local money? Gold's gold, silver is silver."

The clerk rolled his eye. "It's the law, traveler. I take your foreign jink, we both go to jail. That's why we got moneylenders. Now do you have the money or are you just wasting my time?"

"Uh... we'll be right back." They stepped away from the clerk's desk. Eric went to exchange some of their money for the local equivalent while Robert went outside to inform Diana of the delay.

Eric returned, a disgusted look on his face. He showed everybody what he was holding in his hand - a small pile of tiny coins, each about a quarter the size of a regular coin. "Their money."

Hank didn't try to hide his surprise. "That's it?"

Eric nodded. "And their oh-so-fair exchange rate of 2-to-1 really makes up the difference."

Hank turned back to the clerk and said, "I guess we need eight two-day passes, then."

The clerk looked them over and said, "You've only got five here. The child is free 'til she comes of age."

Hank shrugged and said, "Alright, then, give me seven. We've got two companions outside."

The clerk took a large roll of paper out of his desk and tore off seven roughly square pieces. On each, he wrote something that none of them could read. "That's fourteen commons." Hank handed over the money, and the clerk continued, "Each adult keep one of these on your person at all times. They're good through sundown tomorrow. If you're still in town at that time, you can purchase new passes from this office or from the magistrate's office. If you get your new passes after sundown, the fees double. If you elect to stay after sundown without a pass, the guards will either eject you from the city or bring you before the magistrate. You must show a pass to any guard on demand. Any questions?"

Hank shook his head, and they left the office. As they mounted their horses, a guard called out, "Hey! You can't ride in the city!"

Incredulously, Hank asked, "What?"

"Only citizens can ride in town. Ya need ta get down an' walk yer horses."

They all dismounted again, muttering about stupid laws. Hank turned back to the guard and said, "Fine, then. Where's the nearest decent inn?"

The guard scratched his chin and replied, "Probably the Gob-Hobblin'. Straight down this road 'til ya get ta the smith. Turn left and it's a few stores down. Can't miss it, big sign."

"Thanks."

"One other thing, afore ya go!"

Hank turned back to the guard again, exasperated. "Now what?"

The guard handed out strips of rope, each about two feet long. "Ya needs ta tie on peace knots to each sword. Also that whip, missy," he added, indicating Diana's horsewhip. "Ya knows how?"

Hank nodded. A peace knot effectively tied a sword to its scabbard, preventing the weapon from being drawn. It didn't always help keep the peace, it just made it harder to use the tied weapon.

Peace knots in place, they made their way down the street, noticing the number of people about that were mounted. By the time they found the smith, the sun was low in the sky. The made the left turn and saw a large sign with picture of a grinning goblin leaning on a makeshift crutch, a chipped tankard in its raised free hand spilling some painted liquid.

The hustle and bustle of the inn was a pleasant sight, hired boys running about, carrying plates of food and tankards of brew, a few serving wenches moving from table to table. They approached the barkeeper, a large man whose left eye had been cut out, leaving his face horribly scarred.

He noticed their approach and boomed out, "Welcome, travelers! What can I get fer ya?"

Hank said, "We'd like some rooms for the night."

The barkeep smiled. "Ah, good! I thought we'd be empty tonight! Terrible way to run an inn!"

Despite the man's loudness, Hank found himself liking the barkeep. "We need four rooms. What's the charge?"

"Normally, we charge three silver brights per room per night, but," he said, lowering his voice so it could barely be heard over the noise of the inn, "if you've got any real coins, none of this city's funny money, it'll be just one silver each."

Hank frowned "That seems hardly fair. One regular silver is easily worth four or five of these 'silver brights'."

The barkeeper grinned. "Yes, but in this city, your regular silver is worthless to all but the moneylenders."

Hank considered for a moment, then asked, "And how do you make a profit off this?"

The barkeep smiled and rubbed at a spot on the bar. "Oh, there's ways and there's ways. Nothing you need to worry about." Raising his voice back to its normal loudness, he asked, "So how about it, then?"

Hank looked around, then handed the man four silver coins, which seemed to almost magically disappear. "Alright, then! Torvalds! Come here!"

A boy of about twelve years ran up to the bar. "Show these people to their rooms, lad! The third floor! And don't loiter about on the way back, now!"

The boy nodded, appearing grateful for the break from working the tables. He turned to the group and said, "This way, gentles."

Dawn found the group rested, fed, and scrubbed clean. Natasha headed out to see if she could gather any information on her father, leaving Aurora in the care of Robert, who took her to the city's temple. Hank, Sheila and Eric left to get the party's armor and weapons repaired. Diana decided to groom the horses, and Preston headed to the city hall to see if there was a wizards' guild in town.

Robert and Aurora entered the temple. A minor cleric approached them and, noting the symbol Robert wore on his cloak, asked, "Welcome to the temple of He Who Would Understand. May I help you?"

"This girl has suffered some major trauma and has been robbed of her ability to speak."

The cleric blinked. "Well, that's somewhat out of reach of my knowledge and abilities." He scratched his head, then said, "I think I'll refer you on to my superior. Please wait here."

A few minutes later, he returned, accompanied by a somewhat older priest, his hair just starting to turn gray. "Greetings. I am Brother Tardonal. I understand that this young lady has lost the ability to speak?"

Robert bowed and replied, "That is correct, Tardonal. My friends and I rescued Aurora and her mother from bugbears a few weeks back, and she hasn't been able to speak this whole time."

"Hmm..." The priest turned to the girl and asked, "Aurora, could you ever speak?" The girl nodded. "Until you were captured by the bugbears?" Another nod. "Do you know why you can't speak?" She shook her head. "Open your mouth and tilt your head back, please." She did, and he examined the back of her throat. Robert decided not to mention that he had already fully examined her. "Alright, you can close it." He sat and thought for a moment, then said, "Can you read?"

Aurora nodded, and Robert slapped his forehead, cursing himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"

The priest smiled. "None can be perfect, my son." He then pointed at a notice posted on the wall. "Can you read that?"

She studied it for a moment, then shook her head. Robert said, "Father, we are from very far to the west. We use a different alphabet than you use here. But," he continued, "I could read anything she writes to you."

"Very well," replied the priest. He sent the junior cleric to retrieve parchment and some charcoal. These were handed to Aurora, who immediately started writing something. Robert read it out loud as she wrote: "Can... you... fix... me?"

The priest smiled. "We can certainly try, my dear."

Preston was waiting in the antechamber of the city hall when Natasha walked in. He glanced over at her and asked, "They sent you here?"

She shook her head as she say on the bench next to him. "No. The magistrate has no information, so I decided to come here."

For a moment, Preston had the strangest thought: Natasha was lying. He looked at her for a moment, then shook him head. Of course she wasn't - why would she lie about something so trivial? The memory of what he had seen when he had cast his know alignment spell returned to him, but he shrugged that off - he had studied his spell, and found a flaw in it which he had corrected. He was sure that the intense evilness he had seen was caused by the error, but hadn't had the opportunity to check it yet...

Natasha suddenly leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, erasing all thoughts of lies, evil, and flawed spells from his head. Without thinking, he put his arm around her waist, pulling her close. He realized that she was wearing perfume, something she must have bought somewhere between the inn and here. "You smell good."

She laughed. "All the better to charm information out of men that run cities, you know."

He leaned against the wall behind him, relishing the feel of the beautiful woman behind him. Since she had suggested paying him back with her body for opening his spellbook to her, he had thought quite a bit about what it would be like to sleep with her, but he had been resisting that particular temptation. Now, with her warm body pressed against his, those thoughts raced to the surface.

Natasha quietly said, "You're heart's pounding. Are you nervous?"

Preston gulped. "Sort of."

Natasha said, "You shouldn't be - we're likely to meet some minor functionary."

He shook his head. "That's not what's making me nervous."

She placed her hand on his thigh, making him jump. "Are you saying that I am making you nervous?"

He croaked out, "Yes." He cleared his throat, then said, "Please move your hand."

Instead of removing her hand, she slid it closer to his body, causing him to suck in a deep breath. "Is that better?"

"That's not what I had in mind." He jumped up and started pacing the room to regain his composure. "If you're going to do this to me, could you at least have the decency to wait until we're behind closed doors?"

She blinked innocent eyes at him. "Why, Master Mage, whatever are you talking about?"

He turned to her to reply, but before he could speak, a door opened, and two men walked out. One exited the room, and the other said, "Are you all that's left? Oh, good! I may get an early lunch today! Come in, come in!"

Natasha entered, followed by Preston. The public servant closed the door behind him. As he returned to his desk, Natasha and Preston appraised him. A pale, thin man, with thinning hair and a perpetual squint, he seemed to have "clerk" written all over him. As he seated himself he said, "Please, take a seat. What can I do for you today, gentlepersons?"

Natasha said, "I'm seeking my father. I heard that he was incarcerated somewhere in this general region, and this just happened to be the first city we've come to."

The clerk frowned. "That's not something usually handled by my office, or even the city hall, ma'am. Have you tried the magistrate?"

She nodded. "I have, but they could tell me nothing."

The clerk shrugged and spread his hands. "Then I can't help you either. If you don't know where he is being held, then you could try the city north of here, Depelos. There is a very large prison there, with extensive records, or so I'm told. If he is imprisoned there, or has ever been, they should be able to tell you."

She bowed her head and quietly said, "Thank you."

The clerk stood and said, "If that is all, gentlepersons..."

"Wait, I have a question for you," said Preston. "Is there a wizards' guild or school of magic in this city?"

The clerk shook his head. "No, but Depelos has a guild, I believe. Anything else?"

Natasha said, "I guess our next destination is Depelos, then."

Preston nodded. "Apparently." He turned back to the clerk and said, "Thank you for the help, sir."

The clerk bowed and said, "It was nothing, Sir Wizard. It's my duty to help."

<> "Hank, do you think the boys would like this?"

Hank looked over at what his wife indicated. It was something he had seen many times back on Earth, a set of metal balls, hung from a frame so that if one or more on the end was pulled back and release, it would knock the opposite end out, which would repeat the process. "God, I hope not. My physics instructor used those as an example of Newton's Laws. Drove me nuts."

Eric looked over the shelf he was behind. "What drove you nuts?" Sheila pointed, and Eric grimaced. "Man, those things are annoying! Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack..."

"Okay, Eric," Hank said, cutting him off. "We get the point."

They exited the curio shop, waving goodbye to the storekeeper. Sheila asked, "How long until our stuff is done?"

Hank looked at the sky. "I'd say another hour or so."

Eric looked around and said, "Let's try the weapon shop. Might find something of interest."

Hank shrugged. "Alright. Whatever."

They entered the shop, and were surprised at how expansive it was. Rather than the small shop they had expected, they were greeted with large displays of weapons and armor of all kinds, some mounted on human-shaped frames with cloth stretched across the heads to represent faces. They browsed through what must have been three tons of metal for a while, until they caught the eye of the owner. "Greetings, my lords and lady! As you can see, I sell armor and weapons of all kinds, for all uses and sizes! Looking for anything in particular?"

Eric stifled a yawn as Hank replied, "Actually, we're just waiting for our things to get repaired, and were looking to see if something caught our eyes."

"Ah, adventurers! Well, then, might I interest you in some mithril chain mail? The lightest metal known, yet stronger than iron! No? Well, then, how about a fine suit of elven plate? A bargain at a mere 1,800 gold locals!"

Eric seemed to have a coughing fit. Hank glanced at him, then said, "I think that's a bit out of our price range..."

"That's a shame." The armorer thought for a moment and then said, "I have just the thing! Just sold to me a fortnight ago, not yet on display. If you'll just step this way..." He disappeared behind a screen that partitioned off the back quarter of the store.

Hank glanced at Eric, who shrugged. Sheila followed the merchant behind the screen, leaving the men. They quickly followed her when they heard her shocked gasp.

Hank stopped short. In front of him stood Venger, looking more evil than possible, holding a huge bastard sword in one hand, the other pointing right at him! He cursed himself for leaving his bow at the inn, but was unable to tear his eyes away from the evil vision before him to search for another weapon.

"My lords? Milady? Are you okay?" It was the merchant. Hank tore his eyes away, to see the merchant standing calmly by. "I do say that you look as if you've seen a ghost!"

Hank looked back at Venger, but it was no longer Venger, just another wooden frame with leather armor, this one complete with bat wings and single-horned helmet. Eric wiped his forehead, suddenly drenched with sweat. Sheila hadn't moved, just continued to stare at the frame. "Sheila." She looked at him, the shock visible in her eyes. "It's okay, honey, it's not him. Just another statue." She looked back at the frame, then blinked and shook her head. She pointedly turned away and said, "I'll be waiting outside, thank you."

The merchant watched her go, then turned to Hank and said, "I hope I didn't offend the lady, sir. I didn't realize the effect the frame would have on you. I just meant to show off the armor."

Hank shook his head. "Th-that's okay. We just weren't... expecting it."

The merchant smiled apologetically. "I admit that the frame was built to draw attention, but more importantly, I believe that I have Venger's actual armor here."

Eric cautiously approached the frame, studying the armor. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, sir, you'll notice that it fastens in the back, in such a way that allows one who has Venger's, ah, extra appendages to fit through the holes in the back. The helm, well, who else has ever worn one such as this?"

Hank muttered, "Quite a few, I'm sure." Raising his voice, he said, "And the skirt?"

The merchant smiled broadly. "That, sir, is my own addition. After all, to replicate Venger, we must replicate the complete outfit."

"And how did you acquire this... outfit?"

"Some traders from Depelos came through town not twenty days back. They brought this to me, not knowing what it was. I examined it, and after recognizing it for what it is, I bought it from them."

Hank nodded and said, "Thank you, sir. I believe that we'll be leaving."

The merchant followed them to the entrance and said, "I again apologize for the untimely surprise. It was completely unintentional."

Hank nodded and waved the man off. They found Sheila across the road at a fruit merchant's stand, drinking some juice from a wooden cup. As Hank approached, she held it out, and he accepted it without a word, draining the remaining juice. Handing the cup back to the merchant, he said, "I need something a bit stiffer than that."

Sheila nodded. "Me too. I think that I'm done shopping for today. I'm ready to go back to the inn."

Eric said, "I second that motion. The armor should be done by now."

Robert listened to the conversation between the gathered priests, not contributing anything to it. They had been in the temple for most of the day, with multiple priests coming and going, each one examining Aurora in one way or another.

One priest said, "I've never seen anything like this."

Another nodded, saying, "I agree, brother. So far as I can tell, she should be able to speak."

A third said, "And yet she cannot. Mayhap some recent head injury...?"

The first shook his head. "No, brother, I have already checked. She had suffered no head wounds that I can detect, and good Robert there reports that she can think of none herself."

An old, weak voice spoke from behind Robert. "Perhaps it is not the child herself at all."

They all turned to this new visitor, a very old man dressed in a simple brown robe, his head surrounded by wisps of white hair. The priests all bowed to the old man, as did Robert, following their example. The first priest said, "Bishop Aryasse - we did not expect your presence at a simple diagnostic meeting."

"Normally, I would not bother with something so trivial," replied the wizened bishop, looking at Aurora, "but there is something afoot here. My prayers have shown me that a cloud of evil lies thick over you, child. You are in grave danger."

Robert said, "Excuse me, Your Grace, but what do you mean?"

"This child shines like the sun - her innocence and purity are unequaled, but danger and evil cover her like a shell, one that neither she nor you can see. But it is there, awaiting its chance."

"Chance to do what?"

The old bishop slowly shook his head. "I do not know. Such has not been revealed to me at this time. But I feel that it is not long in coming."

"But how can that be? We were just visiting the dwarves of Stonehammer, and they made no mention of this."

The bishop smiled. "The dwarves are good people, but they have little experience of magic. This is not something that they would be able to detect. Nor would you, nor any of your companions, for this lies beyond the mortal ken."

Aurora wrote something down and showed it to Robert, but before he could read it, the bishop replied, "No, Aurora, I do not know the cause of this, nor do I know how to rid you of it."

The priests seemed surprised. "Your Grace, you can read her writing?"

The aged bishop smiled. "I was well-traveled in my youth, many lifetimes ago, my son. I had cause to learn to read many a language, those of the west included."

He turned back to Aurora. "The magic that threatens you is powerful, my child. Take this, and may it protect you." He handed her a small charm made of silver. "It will perhaps lessen some of the magic's harmful effects. Or perhaps not. Still there is no harm in keeping such a thing on your person."

She pocketed the charm, then wrote, "Thank you."

The bishop smiled. "You are welcome, child, though I fear you will need more than my blessings in the days to come."

One of the priests asked, "Father, might this evil be what prevents the child from speaking?"

The bishop regarded Aurora for a moment, then said, "It is possible, though I know not what depriving her of speech would accomplish. She is still able to communicate, after all."

Robert said, "Perhaps one of us should try dispelling this evil."

The bishop shook his head. "No, my child, this is beyond our powers to do so. To even attempt would invite great harm."

"So what can we do?"

The bishop considered for a long moment, then said, "There is a guild of magic in great Depelos, to the north. Travel there, and tell the wizards what you know. They may succeed where we would fail."

Robert bowed again. "Thank you, Your Grace. I suppose that is what we must do, then."

Robert and Aurora found Diana, Preston and Natasha eating the evening meal at the Gob-Hobblin'. Robert sat next to Preston and called for two servings of stew. Preston looked up. "Any luck?"

"We have to go to a mage's guild at a city to the north called..."

Preston interrupted. "Depelos, right?"

Robert nodded. "Which is where you must be headed next, right?"

Preston nodded. "Both of us, for various reasons."

"So where's everyone else?"

Diana jerked her thumb upwards. "They're all sleeping off one killer drunk. I found them here a few hours ago getting plastered for some reason. Had a hell of a time getting them to stop."

"So how did you?"

She smiled. "I convinced Grimstadt, the barkeeper, to put something in their drinks to make them sleep. Grimstadt had his boys help me get them upstairs."

Natasha shook her head. "What a sorry lot."

Robert smiled. "I can't wait to hear the story behind this one."

The stew arrived, along with a loaf of bread, and Robert and Aurora dug into their food. As they ate, Natasha asked, "So what did the priests say, exactly?"

Between mouthfuls, Robert told them what the bishop had said. When he had finished, Natasha said, "So this... 'shell of evil', as you said, can be dealt with at Depelos?"

Robert shrugged. "I don't know. He only said that they MAY succeed."

Natasha nodded. "Then that's all that we can hope for."

They all sat in silence for a few minutes, eating their dinner. Finally, Preston said, "I feel like we're forgetting something."