046 – Size Up The Locals, Size Up The Invaders

Abey brightened. “That is easy then. Steven, using your glasses, find the one man among the caravan who looks different or more aristocratic than the rest. I remember that there was one who insisted on wearing a different cloak than the rest.”

“Right.” Steven got his binoculars and started scanning. “Among about a hundred thirty men below us, find the tall man with one red shoe.”

Abey had grown used to Steven’s non sequiturs, and let this pass.

First Steven looked over the last of the leaving wagons. But they were too far and turned another corner before he could get a good look. Then he scanned the group below, wagon by wagon. In the middle of the group, Steven counted seven men around a wagon, with five ‘busy’ while two stood and watched. All the other wagons had everybody ‘busy.’

“I think I found him. Sixth wagon from the left, seven men around it, five busy.”

As Caspian tossed Cyrril out to have a look, Abey looked around.

“Where are we?” Abey turned Steven around. “You are a military man. What would you attack here? Why are we here?”

Steven looked the place over. For all of the stone work, and not being near the edge, it all looked the same to Steven, initially. Then he began to see the signs. Coats of arms that way, large structures without low windows toward the interior, several visible streets with the same symbol hung under lamps as far as could be seen on the street, a different symbol for each street. This took about ten minuets. Caspian was standing watching, and doing nothing in that time, Cyrril was somewhere below.

“I don’t recognize the symbols, but this appears to be a place of commerce. Definitely a good place to start, if you want to cause chaos.” Steven turned back. In time to see several of the carts blow up.

They did not blow up big, or destructively, just very smoky. Steven would later compare it to a giant flash-bang stun grenade, with a giant smoke grenade. Booms echoed from other parts of the city. A thick white smoke quickly filled the square, and started drifting on the air currents. Some went up, some down, and the rest along the level the carts had been on.

Steven had unconsciously counted a dozen red uniforms visible in proximity to the square. Bowmen from within the cloud quickly shot all the red uniforms that could be seen.

Steven watched the smoke spread and eight men in red go down by the archers. “Well, this is going to be a mess.”

Steven pulled his cross bow off his back and then pulled hard on the charging handle. From the bag on his right hip he pulled a bolt, and notched it in place. He was about to shoulder it and look for a target when Caspian returned to them.

“This is going to take a bit of time, to get that man away from his cohort. To do that we are going to need to move quickly, independently. I am going to put some spells on you. They will only last a short time, but it should be long enough for this battle.”

Steven did not think to argue, and Abey was not given time to form any.

First Caspian cast a spell on them that made them feel a bit tingly. “That should make you durable enough.”

Then he cast a spell on Steven’s boots. Caspian finished, and frowned. “That should have worked,” he muttered.

He repeated the spell on Abey’s boots. “That took fine.”

He tried again on Steven’s and frowned. “Fine if not the boots, then the socks.”

This time Steven felt his feet get lighter.

Caspian put the spell on his own boots. Then explained. “I have just cast a spell on your footwear to allow you to safely jump the distances around here, up, down and across. I also put a spell on your bodies that should keep you unharmed should you miss or fumble, as well as decide to jump all the way down. But it is on your body, not your equipment, so be careful. This spell will last about a half hour. Don’t jump up into a roof.”

Abey looked over the edge, slipping into hunter-role. “It looks like they are moving out, up the road that the others went. You say these spells will let us jump about, the way you got us up here?”

Caspian nodded. “Yes.” He got onto the balcony and then leapt for the roof on the next level down.

His cloak caught the air and billowed, then collapsed to a streamer behind him as he fell. Steven looked at Abey, and took a breath and leapt after Caspian, holding his crossbow high with his right hand, using his left to balance. Abey followed. They landed slower and lighter than expected, and trotted along the flat edge of the roof up the street in the direction the other wagons had gone. They came to the edge of this level and leapt down to the roof tops of the level the wagon had been on.

Steven noticed that there were no red shirts around. Later he would remember the irony of that color, at least from his cultural literary perspective. For now that color only meant local law enforcement; none were in evidence. Through the smoke, Steven could see two columns of men in dark uniforms trotting up the road, in clusters of three: one had a long bow, one a short bow and one a sword or other melee weapon. Steven stopped and knelt, drawing a bead with his crossbow on a man holding a longbow at half ready, fifty feet away.

The noise of the crossbow discharging was louder than Steven liked, but it was quieter than any firearm. His sniper training had been reawakening to a drowsy level as he hunted on his way here. Now as he knelt and drew a bead on a man where his shoulder and neck joined, and the armor opened, his skills at killing came to the fore, and as soon as the bolt was on its way, he pulled back and was moving away behind this roof’s edge as quietly and as low as he could.

Abey and Caspian had sense enough that they had moved away as Steven had knelt.

Steven expected a clatter of gun fire and rounds hitting the stones of the building to respond to his efforts. These bowmen did not even send one shaft in his direction. Steven considered this; either they were well trained not to shoot without a target, or he had the jump on then so well they were not yet aware of his presence and activity. He just had to be careful not to press his luck.

Ahead, the road opened into another larger intersection. Locals were crouched on the roofs and balconies here. A constable, red tunic over armor, was crouched among the five darkly dressed people on the balcony on this side as Caspian leapt the road, and almost got attacked for his efforts. The smoke was mostly thin wisps here, with the front of the column below in view coming up the block, and in range of the archers. Abey followed at an angle to Caspian, and landed a bit further from the intersection, and stopped after she landed. Steven followed and landed near her.

They crouched and moved over to where the crouching constable had Caspian on his back with a sword to his neck. Steven came up.

“I just shot one of the longbow men. Let him up, if you please. We just arrived this morning, ahead of The Mountain Wolves, after traveling with them the last few days.” Steven said this as a way of introduction.

Steven pulled on the charging handle on his cross bow. “The bad guys are walking up the road in two columns, one on either side, just clear of the over hangs, groups of three, longbow man, short bow man, and one with a sword, or some other hand weapon. There were fourteen wagons parked back there, six more came in this direction. By our count, there are six men per wagon, with some carrying a seventh, getting to about two hundred men coming this way. We figure the overall leader is in this group coming in this direction.”

Steven had put a new bolt into the crossbow, always keeping the weapon pointed out at the street.

The constable took this in, and finally spoke. “Who’s hired you?”

Steven thought he caught the immediate undercurrent. “No one. My wife was kidnapped and sold as a slave. With the wizard, I have tracked her probably here. As we came, we crossed that dark shirted caravan’s path, something seamed wrong with them. Two days later we encountered the Wolves. The rest is as I said.”

The constable considered, as the first clusters of the enemy approached. The wizard was being still, not even trying to resist. They had the wrong costume, for invaders. Those below wore the uniform of the kingdom directly south. He had not been warned of any other infiltrators, and the report said no wizards and no women were among them.

Abey kept herself aside, but taking everything in.

Finally the requirements of the moment took over the situation. The constable let go of the wizard, and turned back to his militia squad. The story was so unlikely that it was most likely true. As it was, his orders were to take down as many of the enemy as his militia men could, without getting them killed if possible. No prisoners and no pursuit.

Steven moved toward the edge, looking back down the street. The first group was almost before them. The bowmen on the street were looking over the roofs on the other side of the road from them. All of the bowmen had arrows knocked, some at part pull.

Steven looked about, as he pulled back from the edge. He could see that there were militia men on roofs or crouched on the balconies around them, a few constables or guardsmen with them. Steven wondered whether this group could put up a fight against regulars. Then he put this aside, and took up the crossbow ready to draw a bead. He waited for a bit, and then turned to look at the constable, watching to see if he had some kind of signal to give.

The militia were all armed with crossbows, and taking aim. The constable had a short bow ready. Steven saw that all of them were well back from the edge. Then a flight of arrows and crossbow bolts flew from the other side of the street. This side released immediately after.

Steven turned to his weapon, and looked for a target. Quickly he found a target and fired. The man fell as Steven’s bolt impaled in his neck. Steven pulled back, and turned. As a sniper he was almost never this close to a fight. Neither was he used to a fight as slow as crossbows required. The bowmen who were still standing were already pulling bowstrings and aiming at targets. The militia men were already ducking away, behind the stonework of the balcony.

Steven got up to a crouch and moved along the balcony. Abey followed as he passed. Caspian also got up and followed. Steven stopped at the constable. The man was trying to help a boy with a crossbow.

Steven watched as the man pulled the boys bow string to place. Then asked a question.

“What’s up this road?” This question was the final straw removing any doubt as to whether Steven was a local in any measure.

The constable turned to Steven. “Eventually, The Palace. If you don’t know that, you are not from any where around here.”

Steven stated the militarily obvious. “I expect that is their target.”

The constable gave Steven a ‘no kidding’ look, but Steven had already turned away. Steven went to the end of the block with Caspian and Abey following, and then he looked over the balcony edge and almost caught an arrow in his face for his troubles as he pulled back into a crouch behind the balcony wall. His observation skills were already returning.

047 – Orient To The Enemies Activities

 “Half of the group is on each side of the street, under the balconies. It looks like the leader is on our side, somewhere.” Steven took the moment to pull the charging handle on his crossbow, and then put a bolt into it.

Steven then continued his crouched movement down the side road and when he felt he was far enough from the intersection, he stood up and leapt across the street. Steven landed on this balcony, and continued through the middle of the block. In the middle he turned to his left to go through that alley to get a look at the market. He noticed that this level had a balcony around its outer level that looked down to the road below. There were regular pillars around that supported a vaulted ceiling above, making this level about half way between the road directly below and the next road level above. The buildings were evidently built with some regard for structure, but otherwise looked like any city block, store fronts and hole-in-the-wall shops, alleys, and back doors, and a second floor above and in some places a third that went up to the vault that supported the next level of city.

Steven took cover beside a support pillar, and looked out into the street, crossbow leading, as he had once learned to do with a battle rifle. He quickly found a target and aim point, and let fly. Then he backed up around the pillar and back into the shadow of the alley. Caspian and Abey were waiting. Abey was bouncing her hands together, in a manor that reminded of when she had been at the pit in the village, waiting to go in.

As Steven pulled on the charging handle to reload he spoke. “Three down. It looks like they are going to come in this direction. If my guess is right, they will either partly split and try to clear this level, or just make a run for it.”

Caspian, for all his skill that he had developed in personal fights, was out of his depth in an urban battle. Abey was just tagging along, and staying out of the way, for now. She asked the useful question.

“So, what do we do?”

Steven turned back to look around the alley corner at the intersection. He watched an exchange of volleys and saw the leader and a handful of men come in his direction. He turned back to Abey.

“These locals are doing alright, but most of the army is going to get out of the intersection. That may be the plan. Either way, if we can get the leader, we can hopefully diffuse this part of the fight. Presuming their command structure and training is only to fight as far as he is and will.” Steven turned back to look around the corner. He could see most of the other side of the street, and some of this.

“I need to see what is happening on this side. Is there any kind of offensive magic you can use?” Steven asked this to Caspian as he looked for a place to cross, whether to leap or a bridge.

“I could, but most of it is either close in and personal, or really flashy and not much good in a closed battle field. I can move us around, and do some shielding, but I’m afraid I am better in a brawl.” Caspian had been racking his mind for ideas on what he could do to help, and aside from shields and movement, could not think of much that would not also do significant property damage.

Steven spotted a bridge that looked to be at the far end of this block, going in the direction they had been. That might be enough.

“Alright, come on. We are going to that bridge to see if we can get a better look.” Steven took off back into the alley to the center of the block, turned left and went to the end, and leapt across to the far side of this street. From here he crouched as he quickly scuttled to the center of the bridge.

Steven was clear of the smoke here. Staying crouched, he pulled out his binoculars and looked down the block. The dark uniformed bowmen on the road level were leapfrogging their positions under the balconies and advancing, while those staying put looked for targets. Steven counted ten teams on each side still advancing; meaning about a third of the force was not advancing where he could easily see them. He looked up where the militia men had been, and saw that those were occupied by dark uniforms. Two groups were smashing windows of a structure there.

“Looks like they have split up. Maybe a third of the force on this level, the rest still below. They have cleared the militia off.”

Movement caught Steven’s attention as he put the glasses down. He looked through them again. The men that had been smashing the windows, that group was all on the ground with arrows in them.

Abey pulled on his arm. “Look there, on the lower level. Looks like some militia attacked from that alley.”

Steven put the glasses down and then looked back thorough where Abey pointed. In front of the mouth of the alley, four men lay with arrows or bolts sticking out of them. Bowmen from across the street fired into the alley, and then moved on.

Caspian spoke the conclusion before Steven quite got to it. “Looks like the locals have this whole area set up for ambush. It makes sense to shoot with bow and crossbow, as hand fighting these regulars would most likely get them killed.”

Abey saw the pattern first. Her experience with herds helping her to pick it out quickest. “It looks like the longbow men are the leaders of the groups. And that they are working with four groups to a team.”

Steven handed Abey the binoculars. “Try this. See if you can pick out and tell me who the leaders are. Turn the dial under you finger to focus the image.”

Steven recharged and reloaded his cross bow, and got it shouldered as Abey got the binoculars figured out. She started speaking, and Steven tried to follow her directions.

“On the left, the closest group. The longbow man is the second man, crouching behind the bench. I think he is a leader of four.” Abey called this out.

Steven had to concentrate to see that far, and picture his aim point. He adjusted and fired. He had the bow down and pulling on the charging handle, when Abey spoke.

“A hit. But not a kill.”

Steven made a decision. “We move. Not more than two shots from a place.”

Steven got up and sprinted to his right, and leapt up onto the roof top and carefully moved into the background. Shortly Abey and Caspian joined him.

Steven looked at Caspian for a moment. “Where’s Cyrril?”

Caspian paused and looked distant, than came back. “He is somewhere above in one of the arches. Does not want to come down.”

Steven nodded. “So long as he stays out of the way and does not get hurt.”

Steven considered the situation for a moment. It looked that Caspian had for now ceded the lead to Steven. Abey was also following; she still had the binoculars, holding them carefully. The locals had their own plan, which looked to be summed up as harassment by the militia. Whether this was until regulars could show up or some other next step, Steven did not have any clue. So what were his objectives? Get the Leader as a prisoner, seamed to be the thought that kept pushing itself into his mind. Next was to work with the locals, and help their plan.

Steven looked at his little fire team.

“Abey, you are going to be my spotter. You tell me where the leaders are, so I can shoot at them. I am down by four, so I have twenty shots left. Caspian, can you move things around, like grab the cart and drag it across the street, or some like?”

Caspian nodded, that was easily within his capacity, but he had not considered it as applicable here. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Steven nodded. “Good. Wait for me to tell you what, and then do it immediately. This has become a war; there are no rules, only objectives. Our objectives are to capture the leader, while assisting the locals. If you are concerned about fair, as far as I am concerned, it means ‘we survive.’ If you have anything to add, feel free to, but don’t be dangerous in doing so. Now, we go around here, and see what we can see. Abey keep an arms length between you and what ever cover is in front of you, and don’t get out of the shadows if you can. I will try to shoot over you. Ready?”

They nodded and Steven led out.

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.”

052 – Preparations, Dinner, Aftermath

Rox moved away from Steven, climbed out of the tub, and dried herself off. She left the towel, and went to finish unpacking his things. Steven did not watch her go, instead watching his own memories sort and file away.

“You never answered before. Did you bring me anything to wear?” She had commented about her loincloth as they had undressed. She found it uncomfortable. At the bottom of his bag she found the stuff sacks. He always packed extra clothes in these. The red were his, the blue for her, green for Diana and black for Alex. There was no red in here, and only one each of the others.

“Evidently, not much.” She pulled her fist sized bag out, leaving the kids bags, and opened it pulling out the contents.

Steven was wrapped in a towel, mostly dry, and came over and unrolled his bedroll, to get his second set of clothes.

“I brought more for you and each of the kids, but it was too bulky, so we sold it. That’s all that’s left.”

She pulled the underwear from the roll, putting the rest on the bed.

“You have no idea how appreciated this stuff is.” She had her panties on and was pulling the black trunks on. “Which did you bring and sell?”

“One of your jeans, and a flannel top.” He had his boxers on, and was turning his trousers over to find the top.

“One of the red ones?” She looked at the black spandex noting her school logo on it, and switched to the blank tan one.

“Yeah. The one with the repaired sleeve.”

“Why’d you bring that one?” Rox moved to the wardrobe and pulled the court formal gown out, sounding slightly upset.

Steven fastened his trousers. “Because I knew you liked it, and didn’t know where we were coming to. Once here I figured we may as well dress native.”

She paused, looking at him through the neck of the drape. Then she settled the open sided drape on, wrapping the skirt around. “I’ll dress in my own clothes thank you.”

Steven laced up the front of his shirt, watching Rox tie the sash to close the gown, similar to the one she had been wearing earlier. There was plenty enough fabric in the gown, but it was all but transparent, and opened too much for his liking. The right angles would show her whole chest. He had noticed that she was more defined than he remembered. The muscles were in stronger relief against each other. With the gown in place, she tied on her slippers.

She took his bag and coat again and finished emptying them.

“Did you bring me anything else?”

“You don’t shave, you don’t have a period anymore, and I don’t have more than a vague idea about makeup.” He opened his toiletry bag, and produced her toothbrush, a small hairbrush, and comb. “This was all I grabbed.”

Rox took these back to the bathroom, taking his towel with her.

Growing up, Rox had been aware of her mother’s lack of body hair, from the skimpy swimsuits Margot wore. Then when Rox had entered puberty, the question came up at school of whether she shaved or waxed her bikini line. She had not earned any points when she replied that she did not grow any hair below her head. Rox soon learned to avoid the subject, save with her mother.

This and other things earned Rox the enmity of a clique of girls in middle and high school. It culminated in their junior year. These girls, jealous of Rox’s looks and who she spent time with, grew increasingly nasty to her. Rox just shrugged it off. If these wanted to spend time with the jocks, they could also lift weights, as she did. Same with auto shop. Then she was asked to The Prom. This was too much. The week or so before the prom, Rox handed out one broken arm, three bloody noses, and a multitude of bumps and bruises.

Everyday for the proceeding week, these six accosted her as the weight lifting class and cheer leaders ran the track for warm up. On Thursday she broke one of the bones in one of the girl’s arms, and got detention for it.

That Saturday, her sensei took her to task for this, temporarily dropping her one belt level, and taught her that there are more effective ways of settling this, without breaking bones.

On Wednesday, the six came again, with large sticks. So Rox bloodied and broke three noses, doubled the number of bruises passed out, and turned them all to flight. She had enough witnesses to the six being armed with sticks that she was only scolded.

On Thursday, one of the girl’s mothers called Margot threatening to file suite for the cost of plastic surgery on her daughter’s nose. Margot countered with harassment and assault charges against the six girls for starting the fights. Neither suite happened.

On Saturday, only one of the six was at The Prom. She was still limping from a kick received just above her knee. Her skirts were long enough to cover her black and blue legs.

They never troubled Roxanne after that.

The last she had heard:

One was pregnant at graduation. When the father dumped her instead of marrying her, she put the baby up for adoption, and got into the Air Force Academy. The latest word on her was that she flew fighter planes, and married another Air Force Officer.

Two went to Las Vegas after graduation, with the intent of becoming Cabaret Dancers. Rox had not heard much since, except as a body count. 4 abortions, 5 ex-husbands, and 3 children between them.

One went on to a law degree, and moved to Chicago, at last report.

One was doing time. She had become a rich guy’s mistress, and then tried to embezzle from him. Rumor was ‘seven years plus’ with two still to go.

The last had married happily and worked with her husband to raise and support their children.

Rox was not sure why all this had passed through her mind. Here she was: 2 kids, a business owner husband, and a partnership in a dojo, with her cars on the side. Yet now she was learning magic, and getting ready to go to some unknown place to rescue her kidnapped children.

Rox finished brushing her teeth, and found Steven leaning on the table, repacking his bag. She looked at his clothes, and picked up his dirty ones.

“Is this all you have?”

He looked up and over to her. “Yes.”

“While you are here, we need to get you something more formal.”

“To what end? Soon as we can get resupplied, I want to get going.”

She noticed he was rolling some of her less expensive jewelry in a chamois and tying it with a leather thong. This went into a pocket with two other rolls.

“How much of my stuff did you bring?”

“Everything that cost under $200 a piece. Do you still have your wedding rings?”

“No. They were taken by the slave master.” Rox noticed that he was not wearing his. “Where’s yours?”

“At home, with your expensive jewelry, and all my guns.” He absently fingered where his ring should be.

“Well, this is a palace.” Roxanne affected a prim voice. “It is improper to go about in less than formal dress.” As she said this she touched her fingers to her sternum, and elevated her chin to look down her nose at him.

Roxanne them moved across the room and pulled the bell cord to summon a Page. In a few moments there was a knock at the door, and a boy in fine dress stood there as she opened it. Rox looked him over briefly, not recognizing him, which was not a surprise.

“I need a tailor, for a gentleman, before meal time if possible.”

“Yes ma’am.” The boy turned and quickly walked away.

Steven watched him go. “He can’t be much older than Diana.”

“Most of the Page’s aren’t.”

Roxanne then set about putting the collar and gold chains back on.

“What are you putting those on for?” While walking through the palace, Steven had seen other men and women wearing them.

“It’s expected. And I get more respect this way.”

“In slave chains?”

“In golden ones. Marking me as belonging to the palace, and am therefore doing something important.”

The tailor showed up, with an apprentice in tow, holding several small bolts of fabric. Roxanne set about explaining things, and the tailor sent the apprentice away, to retrieve something. He then set about measuring Steven, and writing down what he found.

The apprentice returned, and they lay out what he had brought. The largest formal attire they had. They dismissed the stuff that was too wide, and looked at the tall stuff. The tallest was still too short for Steven, but it was a starting point. By dinner time, when a quad of guards came to get them, they had Steven in presentable dress.

As they left the room, the Caplan’s went arm in arm, and were joined by The Sorceress, also in formal dress, Linell having attended to her. They entered a smaller dining room than the formal one Roxanne had been in earlier, with only one oblong table, so all could face each other. Shortly Caspian and Abey, both cleaned up and in borrowed formal dress, each looking as uncomfortable as the other, joined them to sup with a King and Queen.

The Queen conducted the dinner and soon everybody was relaxing. The King sat at the approximate head, with The Queen to his left. The Sorceress sat to her left, with Caspian next to her. The approximate foot of the table was empty. Abey sat opposite to Caspian on the other side of the round, with Steven at her left opposite the Sorceress, Roxanne at his left next to The King and opposite The Queen. During the conversations, the subject came up of how Steven had come to have Abey along. All attention turned to Steven, as Abey smirked and deferred to him.

Steven put his fork down, meshed his fingers over his plate and started. “Well, what it amounts to is my being an outlander, and getting tangled up in local customs.”

Roxanne put her bit of food down, cueing her curiosity from Abey’s mirth. “What’s this?”

Abey started in, before Steven could finish collecting his thoughts. “Well, I was given in marriage to an absolute scum. I refused to even go to his house, let alone his bed. So I was put out of the village. After about a month of resisting the scum, and staying out where I was put, I was in bad shape. I’m still not sure how much longer I would have had to wait for either of my parents to come and get me. My younger sister was getting me enough water to keep going. Well, Steven and Caspian came by. Caspian was going to go right on by, but Steven stopped, and carried me into the village. He then laid the scum out in a few hits, and took me to his care.”

The whole party, save for Steve laughed at this.

“Since then, I have been acting as his servant, until I can repay the honor debt.”

The Queen spoke up then. “May we presume that he turned down the usual method of payment?”

“Yes.” Abey responded. “And in a very dignified manor.”

Roxanne looked from Abey to Steven at this. “The usual method?”

Steven blushed, a bit.

“I offered myself to him. He turned me down, to not betray your love.” Abey spoke this quickly.

“I want to hear the whole story.” Roxanne’s tone hardened.

Steven blushed deeper, to the mirth of all there, save Roxanne. So she came to her husband’s rescue.

“It can wait until we are in private.” Her tone softened, and ended the conversation.

They all continued to chuckle, as the conversation moved on to Abey’s heritage. Abey continued the story of their journey, stopping at the lake, going to the highland village and pit fighting, and then climbing the mountains and coming down into the valley. Finally they told of the encounter with the wagon train that made them uncomfortable, and finished with meeting the Mountain Wolves and entering the city before them.

Before Caspian could begin to give grief over not being believed about the train, The King began to ask about the condition of things in the portion of The Kingdom they had traveled through. Abey spoke most, being native, and giving a more specific report than Steven or Caspian were inclined to.

Rox noted how much attention was paid to what by whom. The King and Queen were both interested in domestic matters. The Queen more so than The King in foreign items. The Sorceress mostly seemed to simply be along for the ride, but listening to everything. The King also was very solicitous to The Queen, and seemed to pay her almost as much attention as Rox did to Steven. Caspian seemed bored with things he was not involved with, and did not contribute much, save to add a few of his own points here and there. One story that was not brought up was how Steven and Caspian came together and arrived on this planet. Steven had already related that to Rox, but she found it curious that neither of the Royals were interested enough to enquire after Steven’s exact origin. Neither did they enquire much after the sinister wagon train.

After the deserts were finished, and the conversations wandering from any specific subjects, The King and Queen dismissed themselves, and left the rest to leave at their whim. The Royal couple left, hand in hand, with four guards in a square about them.

Once they were gone, Roxanne finally felt free to pursue the line of questioning that she had wanted to. She looked at the Sorceress nursing an after dinner goblet of drink, as she and Caspian finished some conversation.

“My Lady, I have a question, if I may.”

The Sorceress turned to Rox. “Yes?”

“As I have listened to the conversation this evening, nothing has been asked about the wagon train that attacked today. Nor about my husbands origin. Why not?” Rox was not sure what answer she would get.

The Sorceress took a deliberate drink, and swallow. “I expect that the real reason for the first is that The King and Queen already know more about that attacking force than those sitting at this table could share. I am not sure how much I am at liberty to say. But I can tell you now, that The Queen is the head of the information gathering part of the military. We knew that force was coming since it left its home most of two weeks ago.”

“If not longer, knowing how intelligence and diplomatic agencies work together.” Steven added this without thinking.

The Sorceress said nothing, but her expression said volumes about how this was now a closed subject. “As for your husband’s origin, it is essentially the same as yours. That he travels in the company of a known Mage empirically fills in the gaps.”

Steven and Roxanne were back in her rooms, when she finally turned to him.

“So what happened, with Abey?” Roxanne stood a step back, hands on her hips.

“Well, it was as she said. She was in duress, and I stumbled into helping her. Well, this brought about an honor debt, as she sees it. Evidently among these people, sex is a way to relieve an honor debt. So one night, while Caspian was away hunting, she began to undress. She had her shirt off, when I took hold of her wrists to keep her from removing her skirt. She had a bra of some kind on. I told her that I was married, and would not do that with her. So she put her shirt back on. And that was that.” Steven stood leaning against a table.

“Then a few days later at the lake, she went skinny dipping, after teasing me a bit. We were washing our clothes, in three separate places on the shore. Far enough apart to give a modicum of privacy. Close enough to keep a watch on each other. Then you heard about her pit fight, in her skivvies.”

Steven stood opposite his wife, with his arms folded. “Anything else?”

“We will see.”

Whether Rox forgave Steven or not or even felt she had anything more to forgive him of, they slept in the same bed for the first time in weeks.