045 – The Mage Who Cried INVADER

The next morning, Caspian started out as soon as he was packed. Steven had to hurry to follow. Abey was a bit perplexed, as she had returned to their camp after Caspian and Steven had gone to bed. Abey tied Miri to a cart and marched ahead with Steven, soon catching up to Caspian. Caspian was going faster than he normally went, and Cyrril was clutching to his shoulder, looking forward.

This side of the city of Veradale was walled around its perimeter, except where new construction was happening. Towers of stone demarked distance and corners along the outer walls. The color of the stone was mostly a gray-white, but a few streaks of other color dashed through it. Steven was impressed with how tall the structures were further north; here he could see where work crews were removing the soil to the bedrock. On exposed bedrock they were carving directly into the stone. Instead of quarrying, they were sculpting the rock. The removed rock was carved out, shaped, stacked and locked into the structure; it only moved far enough to go from where the passage would go to the wall of said passage. Or it was taken further out and added to the buildings or bridges between them, covering the area before the hills on the small part of the plains the city encroached on. The word ‘arcology’ came to mind as Steven tried to unify the architectural design style to an approximate analog to his own experience. He recognized elements used by Greek, Roman, Gothic, and a handful of other styles in a uniform style that he just could not put a word to, except maybe ‘local.’ The road led up to the middle of the city wall and a gate there.

The Gate had a small built out tower on either side with arrow slits at the ground floor, and crenellated barbican on the top three floors above. Heavy looking wooden doors opened out from the wall. The Guards manning the gate were in maile hauberks over red tunics, each with either a mace or spear at hand. A clerk was also there with a hand-desk recording the traffic.

Caspian approached the clerk, presuming her to be the best place to start. “Ma’am. Who do I need to talk to, to warn of an approaching threat?”

She looked up from finishing her notes about the wagon that had just entered. She looked Caspian’s road-dirty appearance over, noted his staff and Cyrril. Then she looked back to her notes, with mild irritation at being interrupted. “Tell the constables. Do you have any goods or materials to declare?”

Caspian tried again. “Yes, that there is a wagon train coming in from the next road east that I think is actually an attacking army.”

Steven noticed that all the half dozen or so guards around perked up, and looked at each other, but otherwise did not react.

The clerk continued. “Tell it to the constables. If you don’t have any cargo to declare the entrance fee is one copper per person in your party. Drop it in the box and be on your way.”

Cyrril sat up on Caspian’s shoulder. “Fine, where do I find the constables?”

“Get in a fight. Pay the box, move along. You are backing up traffic.”

Steven and Abey looked around. The closest traffic was a wagon coming out the other direction. Steven noticed that the shadow of a portcullis played across the wagon as it rolled through the gate.

Caspian looked around and surveyed the guards. One with an armband the others did not have was standing near by, and all the others looked at him. Caspian turned and stepped to him.

Before Caspian could speak, he motioned with his mace to the box on a short podium. “Pay the fee and move along. Keep the road clear, and don’t go spreading rumors.”

This frustrated Caspian further. He looked the guards here over. They proverbially closed ranks as they all stood, armed, and looking at Caspian, and Steven and Abey.

Steven simply kept his one hand on his crossbow strap and the other at his side. Abey simply got two coppers from her belt and took Steven’s arm and walked in, dropping her coins as she went past the box.

Cyrril was fanning and hissing at the guards, from Caspian’s shoulder. Finally Caspian also dug out a coin slapped it into the box and caught up with Abey and Steven.

“What now?” Abey asked, as she watched the world around her.

Steven noticed she was dressed not for travel; she wore her leather tunic and belt, her trousers, fingerless gauntlets, boots, and every knife she owned, and it looked like a few that were borrowed. Somewhere she had borrowed a short sword that hung at her left hip.

Caspian started into the city proper. “If I can’t find a constable that will take me seriously, I will go look for that other company by myself. I just hope I do not end up in jail for this.”

For his part, Steven was not in full kit. He had left his coat and bag where Abey left her stuff, on the wagon that Miri was tied to. He had his poncho on, with his cloak over that, his crossbow across his back outside the cloak, and his sword at his hip. His red flannel shirt would have stuck out badly, so he wore a dun colored local shirt he had picked up. As always he had his booney hat on.

Caspian stomped off into the city, looking for a constable. He did not have to go far, but these played as dumb as the guards did. So Caspian asked which way to the gate for the road the other caravan was to come in on. Once he knew that, he stomped in that direction.

Steven’s proverbial antennas were pricked, as he followed Caspian. He noticed that the City Guard was out in force. Also the gaze of the locals hanging on his sword and crossbow, their being notable but not unremarkable, compared to most of the people not conspicuously carrying weapons.

They got to the other outer gate, and Caspian turned aside into an alley the block before the gate and wall. Here he grabbed them, muttered a spell and leapt up about twenty five meters by Steven’s estimation, to land on the parapet of the structure there. To Steven’s surprise it was a porch, with a bridge that crossed to every adjoining building, and an entrance to the one they stood on.

Caspian let go and strode over to where he could look out at the road in the valley and farmland beyond. Steven followed and pulled his binoculars from their pouch. He looked down the road, and soon saw a caravan.

“I see what I think is them. I guess they are less than half an hour out.” Steven put the glasses down. Then turned and looked over the city with them. For a moment, he thought he should see trebuchet’s mounted on towers, and an old man in a white cloak riding a white horse without a saddle or bridle up and down the stairs shouting battle orders. He did see a few trebuchets, catapults and ballista about the walls, but only what he what he would call a light defensive array, with room for significantly more. Turning from those positions on the wall below he was able to identify likely positions on the city about him, and realized that this city properly equipped would be a terror to lay siege to.

“Well,” Steven started. “I will say this. While this city is not on an apparent war footing, an army would have to move really fast in order to get through the land of this kingdom, before the city could fortify itself.”

Abey was awed by the city, never having been here before, but Steven noticed her attitude seemed to mostly be that she was along for the ride, waiting for the excitement to happen.

As Steven looked around, he looked south, and saw The Wolves caravan. “I can see the Wolves entering the city now, but I do not see any walkers. Looks like most are on the wagons, on top of the cargos, or the roofs of the domestic ones, and I guess the rest are inside or on them. Can’t see much more than that from here.”

They stayed and watched as the caravan that bothered them moved into the gates, and was passed through. It rolled past under the bridge they stood on. As Steven watched, he felt like he was also being watched. But every time he looked around, all he could see were locals going about their business. He could spot the city guard in their helmets and chainmail coats over red tunics. The constables looked like the guard, but with a red tabard over a mail shirt. As Steven watched he saw a few more reds show up here and there, but not near the road this caravan traveled.

The caravan rolled along the street below them for several blocks, then the road came to an intersection at the base of the hill, and the caravan turned right. Steven counted thirty four wagons. As he mentioned this to Caspian, he commented that he had counted six men per wagon at the camp. This gave them about two hundred men; not enough to attack the city, but enough to sneak in and maybe seize some critical area, and get out alive, or even take the throne and assert power, or chaos, long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

As the tail of the caravan disappeared, Caspian turned to follow it. Steven heard something below, and turned to see the city gates closing, and a portcullis swing down to back the doors. The crowds that had been around the gate and supporting area disbursed to elsewhere. Caspian ran off parallel to the caravan’s course, and at the next block he again saw the tail. Steven and Abey followed several dozen meters behind. Caspian turned a corner to get closer charging along the balconies and bridges contiguous to this level of the city, matching the streets on the ground below.

Steven followed Caspian, deeper into the city. He was alternately impressed with the construction and amount of light there was, and doing his best to keep up with the mage running through it. Abey kept pace with Steven, though also visibly beginning to break a sweat.

The disturbing caravan disbursed across the city as it went. Here the three of them saw two wagons going a different direction; there two more took a different road. The main group continued, heading generally north and up in the city. The caravan had climbed to the same level the three were on by the time the main group was seen again. Caspian looked around and again grabbed Steven and Abey and used magic to leap up two more levels in the city. This got them nasty looks from some pedestrians as they almost landed on them.

They trotted across the level they were on, to a point where they could look over and down the two levels to the market square below them. Steven noticed that the levels were not uniform in how filled out they were. To the side of the market was a light well down to the ground. Beside and above them was a vault set for a roadway on the level above where the three stood.

Twenty wagons entered the market, fourteen maneuvered to park and ‘set up.’ Six clustered at the entrance end, the other eight took spots further up the market and two actually on the road out. The last six continued on from this market.

Caspian was torn. “Wonderful. Do we follow, or do we stay?”

Abey beat Steven to the mark. “What tactics are you thinking of?”

“Capture the leader, and with any luck the locals will finally listen.” Caspian watched the wagons.

049 – Act On Your Decision

Steven stood behind Abey as she crouched with the binoculars. They were positioned next to a large support pillar, in its dark shadows. Caspian was waiting, energy ready to cast whatever spell in a hurry.

Abey called out what she saw. “Four by the corner, second from left is the leader.”

Steven looked through his sight at the building and drifted over to the right, across one person, and onto a second. He adjusted his aim slightly and squeezed his trigger. The crossbow let fly and Steven then pulled it from his shoulder to pull the charging handle and put another bolt in.

Abey reported his effort. “He’s down, bolt in his right collar.”

Caspian scanned across the market square below them. The locals had the attackers pinned down well. But as the three had moved around, The Leader had disappeared. This was their third position. The attackers had advanced to a second market closer to the palace. The main road went up to the next level here, or branched out deeper into the city to where the mountain rock was visible, or out onto the open area where this was the highest level, and exposed to the sun. Two more carts were in this market, leaving four unaccounted for in this direction. Steven had used almost half of his bolts in this hit-and-run tactic he was leading them in. Caspian felt a bit frustrated at not being able to help more, but this was self-imposed as he knew brawling level spells and open field spells; if he wanted to start damaging the buildings, he could cut loose. For now he was looking for the leader of the attackers.

Then Cyrril got his attention. From wherever Cyrril was, he could see the leader and three others were moving through an alley. Caspian asked where this was from his where he stood. Cyrril’s view came into his mind.

Steven was setting up for a second shot here. Caspian checked the spells he had put on Abey and Steven, and saw they were still good for a bit longer. He recharged them, and looked around, getting his bearings, and planning a course. Steven let fly his second shot, and he and Abey pulled back around the column.

Caspian led out. “Follow me. Cyrril has shown me where the leader is.”

Caspian leapt up the building they stood next to, which was anchored to the column. Abey and Steven followed, as Caspian dashed across this roof. Caspian leapt kitty corner across the intersection where this building ended, and landed on a roof one floor down and kept going. He crossed this building, hurdled the alley on this block, then ran forward to the street of the next block and stopped. Abey and then Steven caught up. Steven had not yet cocked his cross bow.

Caspian pointed his staff down. The other two looked, and Steven pulled the charging handle on his cross bow, and put a bolt into it. Aiming down he shot the rear most bowman in the neck before he could turn the corner of the alley in the block beyond. As that bolt hit, and the man fell, Steven was already reloading. The party did not reappear, so Steven leapt after in pursuit. Steven ran across this block out into the light as the level above ended, and stopped at the edge of the roof he ran across. The next few blocks in front of Steven were a light well four levels deep, with a large building structure below it which extended north out of the well. Something about it screamed ‘Palace’ to Steven.

The leader and his two men were not visible. Steven backtracked, causing Abey and Caspian to skid and turn after him, as he found the alley branch and carefully looked down. Footsteps echoed up it, Steven took off in pursuit, leapt across the road, and paused to look up the street. Cyrril swooped past and to Steven’s right to the edge of the block. Steven followed, and saw the leader and his two men peek out of the alley further down, and take off along the avenue on the edge of the super structure. If Steven had a rifle he might have tried a shot but they were out of his comfortable range with the crossbow.

Caspian went on across the middle of the block, Abey following him, both slowing down. Steven ran along the edge of the roofs with a long drop off to his right, and saw the men turn left in the next square. Steven got to the square and looked down on it, from beside the large column here.

One side of the square fronted the light well. Here were more wagons, more so the remains of them, wisps of smoke lingering. Part of the building they had been parked against had collapsed. Caspian and Abey leapt, and Caspian tossed some magic down into the square. Another explosion boomed across the square. Steven felt the air rush past the way it did when ordinance was detonated too close. His ears started ringing, as the rest of the world went silent. Steven looked down, and saw that near a dozen men in the attackers uniforms were staggered. Abey and Caspian were on the roof on the far side of the square. Steven lined up and felled another man with his crossbow, and started reloading it as he moved back off the edge and to a new position. Then Steven tasted electricity. He always tasted a little when Caspian did magic, and figured it was from his dental work. Now he tasted a lot, and Caspian let off a lightening bolt. The thunderclap was the only thing that Steven heard.

Steven got back to the edge and saw that all the bad guys were down. Abey got his attention as she slung a stone across the square and to Steven‘s left. Steven followed her prompt and saw a man limping across the street and two more fleeing into the alley mid-block across to his right. Steven took off, whishing he had a vehicle to chase around in, instead of just his feet. He leapt the street, and felt the air passage of an arrow on his scalp. He landed and kept going, following the alley to its usual mid-block intersection. Carefully he looked down, and saw two men looking around and breathing hard. Steven felt the vibrations of two people landing on the roof he stood on, and turned to look as Caspian and Abey trotted up. Steven stepped back, and Caspian grabbed Steven’s ears. Steven tasted electricity and felt a mild jolt before he could instinctively dodge out of Caspian’s grasp. Suddenly he could hear again.

Before either could say anything, Steven pointed over the side of the alley. Both nodded. Steven walked back over, and saw that the men were walking against the wall right below him, back toward the market square. Steven was about to shoot, when Abey jumped off the side and landed on the man following. Steven’s professionalism kept him from cursing, as he followed Abey’s lead and landed on the leader, who had just turned to see Abey beginning to thug his man.

Steven felt the man’s armor take the brunt of Steven’s impact, as he hit him feet first. The spell for leaping around also dissipated the force somehow, Steven was not worried how, but it only felt to Steven like he had jumped the guy from atop a fence.

The man managed to turn over and start scrambling, but Steven was right next to him and grabbed him, losing his crossbow in the process. The two wrestled a bit with Steven taking a bit of punishment from the smaller man. Steven then got a solid hit in, and ended up wrapping the man in an arm lock, and pulled his ka-bar from his belt and held it across the man’s throat.

Steven risked looking around. Caspian was standing at the opening of the alley into the rubble strewn market square. Again Steven tasted electricity, and figured Caspian was doing some magic of some kind. Some guards in their red shirts and militia men were gathering up the attackers in dark uniforms from where they had fallen in the market. Looking back into the alley, Abey had the bugler at sword point. His bugle was smashed from it having been fallen on.

Steven felt reluctant to kill this man. “Surrender and I won’t hurt you any further.”

The Leader took a breath, and then yelled, trying to call for the men he thought were in the square. ”Fight on; for glory, for Hafax.”

Steven slashed his throat, without actually cutting anything but the skin. Then with the man’s left arm occupied at his neck wound, Steven took the man’s right arm, and twisted it around the wrong way feeling the connective tissue give way, destroying the elbow as the man cried out. The man’s throat and head wounds were bloody, but ultimately superficial. Steven dropped him to the pavement, and kicked his knee hard further disabling him.

As Steven dealt with his prisoner, Abey knocked the wind out of the bugler, and smacked his head with the crossbar of her sword, knocking him cold.

More confusion began to develop around them, as the shop keepers and several more pedestrians showed up armed, and joined the guards and militia. A few blue shirted men with polished steel breast plates also started to survey the situation. Everyone deferred to them.

Steven was about to leave the leader in Caspian’s care, when he surveyed the situation, and decided to stay put. He grabbed a nearby crate to sit on, and put his feet on the downed leader. For his part, the leader realized that his neck and head were only grazed, and that he might be able to get up and move, if he could get clear. Steven stepped on his already sore knee, and rolled the man onto his belly, and put one foot on his shoulders, and the other across the mans lower back, and sat down.

“Stay put. Your fight is done.” Steven kept his tone as coolly neutral as he could.

The man tried to go for a knife in a wrist sheath. Steven went to one knee on the man’s shoulders, and grabbed his left arm as the leader tried to pull a knife free. Steven glanced around.

“Abey.”

She came over.

“His left hand. Get the knife.”

Steven put more weight onto the man’s shoulders and back, as he tried to fight. “Let her take it.”

After a pause with more of Steven’s weight on his back, beginning to hurt his spine, the man’s grip relaxed, and he let Abey have the knife. Steven felt that the man’s back had chain mail while his front had a breast plate under the black shirt he wore. There were unit devices embroidered into the shoulders of the sleeves.

The confusion died down, as the locals asserted control over the situation. A wagon was pressed to service, as a cache for surrendered and confiscated weapons, and rope was produced to bind the surrendered, as they were rounded up and taken away by the constables. Abey got the attention of a constable as he went by and told him that the leader of the assault force was within the alley. The man started to enter and hit a wizard’s shield. Caspian suggested he go get whoever was in charge here.

Progressively higher rank city guards show up in succession over the next few moments and approached to take the leader in custody. But Caspian would not lower his shield.

“Send for a Palace Guard Officer. We will not talk with anyone less.” Caspian stood at the edge of his bubble shield, addressing the City Guardsman.

050 – Rewards And Bargains

Rox sat off the side of the Dias as The Sorceress and The King and The Queen received reports from the Palace Guard and from a few officers from the City Guard, looking similar to the palace guard, but with red tunics instead of blue under their armor, and the Constables in red tunics over their armor. Most of the black-shirts had been captured, or killed. But on one of the upper levels that looked on the back of the palace to the south west, there was still some bit of squabbling to be cleaned up. It appeared that that group was the main strike force, but had started out too far away from the palace to do any real damage, thanks to the preparations of the Guards and militia. The militia and the constables in that area had not yet checked in with a final disposition.

As they mulled for a bit, a runner for the City Guard came in, saying that the leader had been captured, but that those who had him refused to turn him over to any but a Palace Guard Officer.

The King responded first. “If they have Lord Nadel, let them call for a Palace Guard. Go ahead and send someone.”

The senior guard turned to an aid, which left with the runner. Shortly the aid came back.

*          *          *

After part of an hour, a Palace Guard Officer finally showed up at the alley. His vivid blue tunic bearing what Steven gathered to be the royal device on his left breast and shoulder. He carried a sword at his belt. Unusually he did not appear to be wearing armor, where all the rest of the guards and constables did. “I understand that you have the leader of this band. What do you want?”

Caspian stepped forward. “We understand that a woman was recently sold to The Palace, as a slave. If it is who we believe it is, we will trade these two for her.”

“I am not authorized to perform such transactions. Nor do I have any specific information on recent acquisitions. But if you will bring your prisoners, I will do my best to help.”

“Fair enough.”

Both men turned away. The Guard to muster an escort, and send a runner to the palace; Caspian to help Steven with his bound captive. Once the man was hobbled, Steven finally retrieved his cross bow. It was a bit scuffed, but otherwise still serviceable. It had discharged since Steven had last had a good hold on it. The bolt was not in evidence, not even under the eaves of the buildings on either side. Steven slung it across his back and went back to work.

Steven had a loop around the leaders neck, with his good arm tied to the leash behind his back. His mangled elbow caused the right arm just to dangle. The hand was weekly holding to the man’s belt. He limped on his damaged knee. The bugler was also on a leash, both hands bound behind his back. The leash ran down to one of his feet.

A cart was brought, with a guard detail. Their Palace Blue in contrast to the red of the City Guard. Caspian led the way, collapsed the shield, and climbed up into the cart. Cyrril fluttered down to land on his shoulder. The leader was pushed over to lie on the floor of the cart, and Steven got in, and pulled him in the rest of the way. He then pulled the bugler in, and Abey climbed in. A pair of guards followed, and the tailgate was put in place. The driver then moved his way out of the immediate chaos, and onto the main thoroughfare. Steven turned to see that a pair of horses was pulling the cart at a good pace.

Abey tugged his sleeve and pointed out of the cart. Steven and one of the guards both looked where she pointed. The Wolves Wagon Master stood by a shop with Miri and all their laid aside gear.

“Your mule, sir. You left him behind.” With the smooth experience of a caravaner, he dropped Miri’s lead over the rear stake of the wagon as it rolled past.

“Thank you, mister.” Abey called, putting her hand on the loop to keep it from slipping off.

Steven nodded in return, respecting the man’s desire to remain anonymous, and wondering how he had found them. Whether the guard recognized anything, was uncertain, and of trivial importance. Miri fell into step as his lead came to length, and followed the cart.

First, they went down a level and into a receiving area. The place had a double compliment of Palace Guards on duty. Two helped Abey, and then the prisoners down. They were directed inside. Caspian led, Steven and Abey and their respective charges following into the main warehouse structure, with an escort of two guards each. Each of them was taken slightly separate to talk to a clerk. The bugler was sat down, and a large canine sat in front of him, facing him; a clerk there spoke with Abey. The man just sat quietly, still a bit dazed from being hit over the head.

Steven and his prisoner are taken by their guards a bit further, and sat down for a healer to look the leader over. First they asked Steven’s name and origin.

“I am Steven Caplan, and I think Terra would be the best answer.”

“What happened to the arm?”

Steven answered. “I bent it around backwards. I doubt he will be able to use it anytime soon.”

“And the throat and head?” The man’s tone suggested boredom, another list to fill out.

“Encouragement to cooperate. The knee was to prevent flight.” Steven matched the man’s tones.

The healer wrote some stuff down. “You’ll live. Get in line.”

The guards stood the man up, and frog marched him back to the entrance. Steven followed, with the leash in his hand. The other five joined them as an officer approached carrying some papers, and hailed them. The officer from the market was with him.

“This is them, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

The senior officer gathered the group with his glance. “Come with me.”

He led them out into the courtyard, and onto another cart. The previous arrangement of the passengers continued, with Miri behind. A light breeze started, and Steven stole a quick moment to change from his cloak and poncho to his greatcoat, pulled from Miri’s load, and to secure his crossbow to the mule’s load. Later, Steven would notice an arrow hole in the middle of the cloak, about half way up. They went back up one level, and across several terraces and around the Palace structure. There were signs of the melee having gotten this far and even into the Palace proper. They approached the Palace from the opposite side they had entered the city from, and then turned aside to go in a Guard Entrance.

They entered first a smaller outer court, where a guard platoon formed up around them. They then went through a second gate and fortress wall, and into a parade ground. The group stopped, and the cart was again dismounted. It was then led away, with Miri’s lead being held by a palace stable hand. An entourage then approached from some stairs leading from a balcony on the Palace. Steven looked them over. He recognized Roxanne’s stride and stature among the group. The decorative helmets and spears being the only things taller than this woman. But she did not look quite like Roxanne.

Caspian came to his side, and spoke English. “Say and do nothing irrational. Answer anything asked directly to you. Otherwise let me do the talking.”

Steven was not going to argue. The adrenaline high from the battle was leaving him. The rush of potentially seeing his wife again was about to hit, and rationality on its own was hard in that kind of situation.

Roxanne looked the group over as they approached. A runner had come saying that a wizard, a fighter, and a highlands-woman had captured the assault group’s leader, and would trade him for a certain woman, or news and means to find her. The King gave leave to the Sorceress to meet them and bring them to him, if this was about Roxanne. Now they met the group in a side courtyard where the guards normally drilled.

There were the Palace Guards in formation around the cart. The group got out, and the cart left. The two prisoners were being held slightly apart by the guards. The wizard with his tall staff and woolen duster; a young woman in a leather tunic, and…

Roxanne’s heart leapt within her, and she almost broke out of the group. Rox’s chains restrained her, but the Sorceress could see her almost vibrating in excitement. Roxanne turned to the Sorceress, leaning over to speak in her ear.

“The tall man in the coat: that is my husband, Steven.”

The Sorceress nodded and halted the group. She then motioned the Captain forward.

“Take the prisoners away. The Wizard’s party will be brought inside.”

She then turned and collected Roxanne, and her body guard. She quietly spoke to Roxanne as she went. “Come on. This must be done formally. Besides, you do look different than when you last saw him.”

Steven caught Caspian’s shoulder. “I think that is her. But she looks really different.”

Miri was led to the stables. The rest climbed the stairs, crossed the balcony, and went into a hall, where The King stood with a small entourage. The Sorceress moved forward, and curtsied. Roxanne followed two steps behind. They then moved aside, and stood to their usual positions at The Kings left, Roxanne two steps behind to the Sorceress’s left. Steven noticed as he entered the room that aside from the tall woman, whom he was all but sure was Roxanne, he was the tallest one in the room. Again. Only a small number of people were here, and all centered around a well built looking man, with a large gold necklace and collar on his chest.

They approached, with Caspian, Steven, and Abey behind the guards. The guards genuflected, and then the Guard Captain spoke. Steven followed the Guards moves as did Abey and after the briefest pause, Caspian.

“Your Majesty. I present the three who captured and have custody of Lord Nadel of the Barony of Hafax. Caspian, the Mage; Steven Caplan; and Annabelle, daughter of Criga, of Beowa.”

Each bowed again, or curtsied.

Roxanne could hardly take her eyes from Steven.

Steven scanned the group, and let his gaze drift from The King to Roxanne. Caspian had said a bit about expecting her to be different, but this was a bit more than Steven was prepared for. In the strange costume, o.k., and different features, umm… with a white Mohawk, uaa . . .

Caspian stepped forward, and knelt. “Your Majesty. We are travelers searching to reunite this man,” he motioned to Steven, “to his wife and children. We have reason to believe that his wife, one Roxanne Caplan, was sold here in slavery several weeks ago. Can you enlighten us on this issue?”

The King smiled, and looked at the Sorceress, and Roxanne, and back.

“I bid you rise, and welcome.”

He thought a moment, motioned for the Sorceress and Roxanne to step forward, and then continued speaking.

“Formal thanks for your actions will follow later. I think my Adviser can help you best.”

He then turned and left with several of the guards closing ranks around him. As he went, he paused where The Queen was sitting, and taking her hand helped her to her feet. They then went away, hand in hand.

The Sorceress watched them leave, smiling, before continuing, in a much less formal manor. She then turned to the tall woman behind her.

“You say your husband is Steven Caplan. Is he this man here?” She already knew, but formalities aside, propriety must be observed.

Steven moved to approach, but a pole arm was lowered in his way, so he held his ground.

“Yes, my lady. That man is my husband.” Roxanne smiled her smile.

Steven felt all doubt leave his heart.

The Sorceress turned to him. “Sir, are you Steven Caplan, husband of Roxanne?”

Steven smiled wide. “Yes ma’am. I am.”

“This woman is currently in bond. The cost of a slave is considerable. What do you offer to me, to relinquish this bond unto you?”

“I offer the Lord Nadel, currently my prisoner.”

“A Lord is worth more than a single slave. You say you are travelers. The offer is this. For Lord Nadel, I will give you this woman and her possessions, provisions for your journey, and unhindered passage. Is this acceptable?”

Steven looked at Rox, and back to the Sorceress, grinning the whole time. “More than fair, My Lady.”

Steven almost moved again, but the pole arm was still in the way.

The Sorceress turned to the scribe, who had already drawn up the contract. As she went, to hand it to Steven, Caspian interceded.

“My Lady, while literate, he is not versed in your script. If I may?”

Caspian motioned toward the contract. Steven nodded, and the Sorceress handed him the contract. He looked it over briefly; Caspian would not admit it to anyone but he could not read this local script any better than Steven could. He then handed the sheet to Steven. “All is well, as expected.”

Steven took it. The alphabet was utterly unknown to him. A scribe handed him a quill, and indicated a line. Steven put the contract on the scribe’s board, and signed it.

The Sorceress then signed it.

The scribe spoke, as he countersigned it. “This contract is valid.”

The Sorceress turned to Roxanne, and reached for the choker. She pulled the medallion off, and then stepped aside.

Roxanne stepped forward as Steven pushed the pole arm aside. They embraced, and kissed, as they hadn’t in a long time.

Finally Roxanne spoke. “I knew you would come, eventually.”

“Of course. I always return.”

“Who are your friends?”

Steven turned, letting his hand fall to his wife’s side, to keep hold of her. Abey and Caspian were talking with the Sorceress and the Captain about her prisoner. Most of the rest of the guards were walking away.

“The man with the staff is Caspian. There is a long story to him. Suffice right now to say he got me here. The young woman is a native whom we picked up. She will take more explaining.”

051 – Taking Stock, Taking Baths

Their business finished, the guards filed away, though the Sorceress and her body guard stayed. She started talking to Caspian.

“Are you the Caspian known for the Hildyar Pass Collapse and the Orders Library Fire?’

Caspian grimaced. “I’m afraid so.”

“By your reaction, I see the popular account must not be the full account.”

Cyrril finally came fluttering in through a high window, squawking, and landed on Caspian’s shoulder.

Caspian looked a bit flummoxed. “The popular account is rarely full or accurate. This is Cyrril. And yes, there is more to the stories. My Lady, is there somewhere we can freshen up? This has already been a long day.”

The Sorceress smiled. “Follow me.”

She took Caspian and Abey to separate apartments in the guest suites, after first getting their required gear from Miri’s pack. She had already told Roxanne that if she left without giving any instruction it meant that Rox had leave to eventually return to her rooms until given further instructions. This was where Rox took Steven when they noticed the rest leaving.

*          *          *

Rox closed the curtains behind them, as Steven stopped and looked around the room. The high ceilings with their windows, the chandelier, and the carved stone work. Then down to the furniture.

Steven stood there looking around, as Rox first pulled his great coat, then sword belt off.

“So, this is where you have been staying?” Steven still had not moved.

“Yes. It’s comfortable, once you get used to it.”

Silence filled the room, as Rox put the sword and coat on a chair at a side table. She turned to see Steven looking at her. She looked back at her husband, and then stood to her full height. She turned to right face, left face, and about. Then back to her husband.

“Well?”

“What happened? Your hair, your eyes and ears…”

Roxanne crossed back to him, and wrapped him up, arms around his shoulders. He responded in reflexive kind, arms around her waist.

“It turns out that my Grandmother’s mother was an elf, native to this world.”

“I’ve been told that already, by Caspian. What of your looks?”

“Evidently elves use magic to disguise themselves. The pentagram and phrase I spoke on the kids? That’s the invocation of the spell. The Sorceress removed the spell from me shortly after I arrived here. This is how I look, genetically.”

Steven did not move, even though he was totally convinced this was his wife. He was still shocked by her appearance.

Roxanne broke the embrace, as Linell showed up with Steven’s cloak and back pack. She handed them to Rox and left quickly. Roxanne put the bag down on a chair and started to empty it. Steven noticed that his crossbow was not in the delivery. The half full quiver of bolts rattled a bit on his right hip as he walked.

“I hope you brought me some clothes. What I was wearing when I was kidnapped is long since gone.”

Steven was suddenly there, helping her pull stuff from the bag and coat pockets.

He had noticed her costume, and how revealing it was, but duty and distraction had kept him from reacting. Now he took her hands in his, bringing her around the chair. He just looked into her eyes.

They were embracing, sobbing, and snogging in the next moment, relieved that they were finally together again.

*          *          *

The Sorceress and two of her guard strode along with Caspian. They left Abey in her suite where she had gone in, exclaimed in excitement at the bath, and closed the door. Caspian had seen his then asked for some food and water. The Sorceress had decided to accompany him to the closest kitchen, and informal eating area. As they went, Caspian began asking what had happened with Roxanne over the last weeks.

“When Roxanne first arrived, she had only an after image of magic to her. I did a general Identify spell, and her aura jumped around, with an active spell operating at a very basic level. I then did a general, deep dispelling of all magic on her. Immediately her hair and features began changing. As her body stabilized, I put in energy to stabilize things. Her aura stabilized, her hair changed color, and her eyes and ears adjusted. Her physiology settled to a higher level of stasis than pervious.

“Since then, physically, her skin has lightened some, she has added some muscle, and her hair has adopted the elf pattern.” The Sorceress gestured to the door they were to turn into, leading the way.

“Like a piece of cloth relaxing after being under tension.” Caspian commented, understanding. He followed her into the dining area. The room opened to a balcony that over looked the north east part of the city which Caspian had not seen before.

The Sorceress motioned for a sandwich tray to be brought over and led Caspian to a table on the balcony.

She continued her story. “Precisely so. But I was mildly surprised to find a latent talent for magic. So was she. Roxanne reported using a spell on her children when they were newborns, and that the same was done to her. Building on that, I have been teaching her the fundamentals of spell casting as I was taught them, and a bunch of house keeping spells. I have not really taught her any combat magic, but she seams the type to come up with things on her own.”

“That does not surprise me. The elves who sent me after her family did not mention anything, but for an elf to pass for a human, that requires some magic talent. I am guessing that her great grandmother, the elf, was also a mage of some skill. Evidently that has passed down.” Caspian nodded.

They sat at a table, Caspian holding the chair for The Sorceress, and then taking his own. Cyrril flew off over the side of the balcony and disappeared.

“So how far have you gotten?” Caspian needed to know what Roxanne thought she knew.

“Well, we started with basic mana theory. We have done some reagents; both in potions and ointments, and larger spells. We have talked about resonance and deconstruction. Echoing was the next theory to address. She was almost inordinately interested in my mirror and using it to scry on her children. I have been putting that off, saying to wait until I could use it in a lesson. Now that they are together, at the right moment, I will let them see if there children are still healthy. The Queen is also interested in who has them.”

The tray of rolls, sliced meats, cheeses, and vegetables was put down between them as was a pitcher of water and two glasses. The guards stood at a taller table near by eating from their own tray and drinks.

Caspian nodded as he began assembling a sandwich. He already knew who had the children, and where they were going. But he figured revealing that information here would be more trouble than it’s worth. So he changed the direction of the conversation.

“I can pick up the teaching from where I understand you have said. You haven’t gotten into diagrams and runes, yet?” Caspian bit into his sandwich.

“No, actually. I don’t consciously use them much, save on others.” She nibbled some vegetables, having had a hearty breakfast, and so not as hungry now.

Caspian paused, looking at one of the rings The Sorceress wore. He had seen it before, but now he remembered where, and derailed the previous conversation for a new one. “Wait a moment. Were you the prodigy student of Master Elinor, who ultimately taught her about combining symbols?”

The Sorceress blushed a little, looking a bit sheepish.

“Your ring gives you away. You went through school about seven years ahead of me. She was still talking about you.”

“I suppose she still is, if she still does magic.”

Caspian had to pause before answering. “She had a sigil turn her inside-out, three years ago. My father tells me that she is reported back on solid food as of last fall. She no longer teaches.”

“Your father is at the school?” She had heard of Caspian The Troubler, but not much about his family.

“No,” Caspian replied. “He is second in the Evocation Order in the School of the Orders. He gets to do all the un-fun stuff, like visiting the training schools and see how well they are doing. And he was an early student of then Journeyman Elinor.”

She nodded. This was new information, but not of any real value at this time, if ever. On the other hand, she might be able to use it to get in contact if she needed to.

Caspian finished his sandwich and turned back to his own business. “So, Roxanne knows a handful of house keeping spells, and basic theory. Have you seen her in a fight, yet?”

The Sorceress shook her head. “No. A little training, but not a real fight. I am told she is good. She has been teaching one of the Pages here to fight. The result of that has been a shakeup of who’s in charge of the Pages. After Rox leaves, my bodyguards are going to take over teaching the Pages.”

The Sorceress continued before Caspian could speak. “I am going to give her a stick I have had. I got it not long after getting out of school. It has magic to it, but I have not stored or channeled any magic in it. She was carrying it when she went with her husband. It breaks in half, for use as two sticks, or magically extends to triple its length for field fighting. I was told it can do a few other things, but I have never been where I could use it. It seems to echo her preferred weapon type.”

Caspian had one or two other questions, but most of what else he was interested in he could learn as they traveled. “To summarize; she is adapted to mana and shown a skill for magic. She is a good fighter. The subtext, and also from what I have learned from her husband, is that she is well disciplined, and will travel well. Now it is time for her to get put together for travel and go retrieve her kids. While traveling, I can teach her more magic, and you want to give her a staff to use. ”

The Sorceress listened, nodding. “That about sums her up. Now, you better go clean up. A tailor will be sent by to get you outfitted. Tonight you dine with The King and Queen, so be on your best behavior.”

*          *          *

Steven and Roxanne sat in the tub, watching the light through the window. Over the last two hours they had tended to and bathed each other and gotten caught up on what had happened to them, generally.

Rox had told of fighting the intruders, and the disorientation of her first days on planet. Then of The Sorceress and what they had done together; of the changes to her body.

Steven told of the annoying deputy, meeting Caspian, and the telephone call from Margot. Also of his trip to this world, and how he finally accepted it.

“I think I killed a half dozen men this morning.” Steven deadpanned it. He had killed as a sniper before leaving the Marines. It was those skills he had drawn upon this morning.

Rox took this in, and one brief memory from her own fight caught her. “I think I may have killed one as well. I remember hitting a man in the throat with the stick I was using. He fell and I moved on to bash another man. Am I supposed to feel numb over this?”

Steven felt a bit of detachment, as he held his wife in his arms. “’Fair is all my guys come home.’ But that is not comforting. We can howl over the nightmares together. But it was a battle, kill or be killed. Survivor’s guilt is something to deal with. But be glad you are alive to deal with it. I am.”