Magician (Riftware Sage Book 1)

Milamber said, “Have you captured horses?”

 

 

One of the officers nodded dumbly.

 

“Bring two, at once. Saddled.”

 

“Your will, Great One,” said the man, and rushed off. Soon a soldier brought two horses toward him. When the soldier came close, Milamber could see it was Hokanu. The younger Shinzawai son looked quickly about as he handed the reins to Milamber. “Great One, we have just received word something terrible has occurred at the Imperial Games, though the reports are vague. I suspect your sudden appearance here has something to do with those reports. You must be away quickly, for these are the Warlord’s men in camp, and should they arrive at the same conclusion, there is no telling what they might risk.”

 

Milamber held William while Katala mounted with Hokanu’s aid. He handed their son up to her and mounted his own steed. “Hokanu, I have just seen your father. Go to him; he has need of you.”

 

“I will return to my father’s estate, Great One.” The young Tsurani hesitated, then added, “Should you see my brother, tell him I live, for he does not know.”

 

Milamber said he would, then turned to Katala and took the reins of her horse. “Hold to the saddle horn, beloved. I will carry William.”

 

Without another word they rode out of camp. Several times guards started to challenge them, but the sight of the black robe stopped them. They rode for hours in the moonlight. Milamber could hear the shouts of soldiers as he led his family to safety.

 

Katala bore up under it all like the warriors she was descended from, and Milamber marveled at her. She had never sat a horse before, but she made no complaint. To be taken from her home and whisked away to a strange, dark world, where she knew no one, must be a frightening experience. She revealed a tough fiber to her character he had only guessed at before.

 

After the seemingly endless ride, a voice sounded from out of the darkness. Dim shadowy figures could be seen moving among the trees. “Halt! Who rides this night?” The voice was speaking the King’s Tongue. The three riders halted, and the man in front, with relief in his voice, shouted, “Pug of Crydee!”

 

 

 

 

 

THIRTY - Upheaval

 

 

Kulgan sat quietly.

 

It was a reunion tempered with sadness. Pug stood near Lord Bornc’s bed, openly showing his grief as the dying Duke smiled wanly up at him. Lyam, Brucal, and Meecham waited a short way off, speaking softly, and Katala distracted William while the Duke and Pug spoke.

 

Bornc’s voice came softly, weak from his illness, and his face contorted with pain as he struggled for breath. “I am glad to see you . . . returned to us, Pug. And doubly glad to see your wife and child.” He coughed, and a foam appeared at the corner of his mouth, flecked with blood.

 

Katala’s eyes were tearing, for the open affection her husband held for this man touched her. Borric motioned toward Kulgan, and the stout magician came to stand next to his former pupil. “Yes, Your Grace.”

 

Borric whispered, and Kulgan turned to Meecham “Will you see Katala and the boy to our tent? Laurie and Kasumi are waiting there.”

 

Katala threw Pug a questioning look, and he nodded Meecham had already picked up the boy, who regarded him with some skepticism. When they had left, Borric struggled to sit higher, and Kulgan helped him, placing pillows behind his back. The Duke coughed loudly and long, his eyes clenched tightly shut from pain.

 

When at last he could breathe again, he sighed, then spoke slowly.

 

“Pug, do you remember when I rewarded you for saving Carline from the trolls?” Pug nodded, afraid to speak for the emotions he felt. Borric continued, “Do you remember my promise of another gift?” Again Pug nodded. “Would that Tully were here to give it to you now, but I will tell you in brief. I have long thought the Kingdom wastes one of its greatest resources by regarding magicians as outcasts and beggars. Kulgan’s faithful service over the years has shown me I was right. Now you return, and though I understand only a little of what you’ve told, I can see you have become a master of your arts. It was my hope you would, for I have had a vision.

 

“I had left a sum of gold in trust for you, against the day you became a master magician. With it, I would like you and Kulgan, and other magicians, to establish a center for learning, where all may come and share. Tully will give you the documents with my instructions, explaining in detail my design. But for now I can only ask: Will you accept this charge? Will you build an academy for the study of magic and other knowledge?”