Wizard's Alley Page 10

  “Sergeant Vince, I need to sleep away from everyone. I can feel my surroundings better if I do, which will make it harder for anyone to slip up on us at night.”

  “How far away?”

  “Out at the horse picket line will be fine. I can also keep an eye on them.”

  He thought a moment. “Okay, I'll let everyone know where you'll be if we need you.”

  I nodded and went to the picket line and lay my sleeping place out. I took care of my mount and spent some time with her, brushing her down. She liked the attention.

  I made a few laps around the camp, fixing everyone’s position in my mind. I was greeted several times as I passed and thanked for the boar. Cookie had made it known that I was responsible for it. I might have done too much the first night out. Now the bar was set high for the rest of the overnight stops. I smiled at the thought.

  When I lay down for the night, I sank my hand into the earth and sent my sense out as far as I could. The only things I felt were nature and the animals of the wild. Our camp was the only people for as far as I could reach. I took a turn around the camp every few hours, and then it was back to my sleeping mats. I always knew when anyone approached to wake me, and I made sure everything was all right before going back to sleep.

  ***

  As was my habit, I was up before dawn, stretching, and practicing my weapons dance. I noticed a few passersby would watch for a moment and then move on. After I was finished, I went to the creek and wiped myself down with the cool water. I kept my senses ranged out, so I would not be taken unaware. I was on scout duty again today, so I needed to get my gear put away and be ready to ride when Burt was.

  I got bread and meat as I passed the cook wagon and headed back to my sleeping area. When I was packed and ready to go, I waited for Burt at the picket line. Once he arrived, he glanced at my gear to see if I was ready but said nothing. We mounted and headed out. The procedure was different today. We stayed about an hour ahead of the caravan, scouting more to the sides of the road than farther away. I followed his lead, looking for signs of people or horses passing or waiting.

  On one of our breaks, he said, “I see you practice weapons forms in the mornings.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I try to practice every morning no matter where I am.”

  “Good. Keep that habit; it will save your life. Have you ever sparred with anyone?” he asked.

  “Some, but nothing serious and usually only with staffs.”

  “You need to practice against someone with a sword.”

  “Well, we have some time now,” I said, smiling. He nodded, stepping down from his horse.

  I stepped down and called my staff from my bag. We dropped our horse's reins to the ground and moved away from them. They wouldn't go anywhere.

  “We'll start slow, and then work from there,” he said. I nodded.

  He started slowly, with basic sword moves, and then guarded while I attacked. Once he was satisfied, we increased our speed. Burt was good. He attacked at odd angles, not using the same approach every time. There were a few times that I had to use magic to keep his sword from touching me.

  We had both worked up a good sweat when he stepped back. “Good,” he said, nodding. “You do well with your staff. Will it hold against a steel blade?”

  “It will; it's warded to do so.”

  “Since you don't fancy a sword; we'll work on knife fighting too.”

  “Thank you, I'd like that,” I said. He turned and walked back to the horses; I followed.

  Burt never said much, but when he did, what he said was important. I liked him, and we got along well. We didn't feel the need to keep up a conversation to pass the time.

  We arrived at the place the caravan would stay overnight. “You fix Cookie's area; I'll see if I can't find a deer to bring in.” He didn't wait for an answer; he just walked into the forest. For practice, I kept my senses ranging out and tracked him.

  I fixed Cookie's pit and oven, including the hot rocks. I lowered the latrine ditch and scouted around the camp area. There was no water source here, so I assumed we'd have to use the water barrels and fill them somewhere on the road tomorrow. That didn't seem very efficient, but I guess they did this every trip.

  I felt down into the earth; there was water here. Someone could have dug a well, but no one wanted to take the trouble to do so. I went to the opposite side of the clearing from the latrine ditch. The ground was a little higher there, so run off would not contaminate the well.

  I concentrated and called up stones to line the well shaft as I opened it. There was plenty of water, so it should never run dry. Once that was done, I moved a good distance away and lowered a large water trough for our horses. I cast a spell on it so it would always have water in it.

  Burt got back with a deer before the caravan arrived. When he saw the well, he frowned and looked at me. I shrugged. That was the end of the conversation.

  The caravan pulled in and made their circle. Once everyone was parked, I saw the Caravan Master looking at the well and the horse trough. He came over to me. “You put in the well and trough?”

  I nodded. “It seemed a better idea than using our water barrels.”

  “It is indeed,” he nodded and handed me a silver coin.

  “Thank you,” I said. He nodded and went about his business.

  The camp set up quickly. These people lived on the road, so this was second nature to them. I found Sergeant Vince at his fire with a few men around him. The rest were on guard duty.

  “Good idea on the well and trough,” Sergeant Vince said.

  “It seemed better than using our barrels of water.”

  “I've thought the same thing several times, but no one wanted to pay to have a well dug. You're kind of handy to have around,” he said, smiling. I chuckled. “Burt said he sparred with you today, sword to staff.”

  I nodded, “I don't think I embarrassed myself too bad.”

  “No,” he said, “you did better than he expected. But you could use some knife work to improve.”

  “Yeah, I may not always have room for my staff.”

  “I'll have Jessy visit you this evening. He's the best we have with a knife. Other than that, same duty as last night.”

  Taking that as my dismissal, I said, “Sounds good,” and went to the picket line to take care of my horse and set put my sleeping area. After dinner, Jessy came by to introduce himself.

  Jessy was a thin, wiry man, and quick as a cat. He started working with me with, using sticks as knives. I had to use magic to keep up with him. On one particular exchange, he had me cold with a killing strike. Out of reflex, one of my magic shields blocked his attack.

  He jumped back, looking at me. “What was that? A magic shield?”

  “Yeah, sorry, it was just a reflex.”

  “Don't be sorry, lad, that was well done. But let's do this for now; don't use your magic. As we progress, we'll incorporate your magic into the fighting. It will help me with my fighting as well,” he said, smiling.

  “Okay, if it makes me better, I'm all for it.”

  My days became routine: Up before dawn, practice my dance, scout the route, sword spar with Burt, prepare the campsite (including fresh meat), and knife practice with Jessy.

  I slept with my hand in the earth, feeling the world around me. I would take a turn or two during the night to be seen, then back to my sleeping mats.

  ***

  We had been on the road ten days when the first sign of trouble appeared. I had my senses casting about when I felt two riders off to one side. They weren't moving, just sitting there.

  I stopped and stepped off my horse, stretching. Burt knew this was not normal for me, so he stepped down and stretched as well.

  “How many?” he asked.

  “Two—thirty yards back in the woods on the east side of the clearing. They're not doing anything, just watching.”

  “Ok, lets move on and see what they do. If they follow us, we'll move on for a bit. If they turn back towar
d the caravan, we'll turn back.” We mounted and eased on our way as before. Once we were out of sight, I stopped us.

  “They're still sitting there, not moving.”

  “Let's give them a minute,” he said.

  While we waited, I moved my horse closer to a tree. Touching the tree, I concentrated. I felt the forest and the surrounding wildlife stronger than just using my senses. I found the watchers. They were still sitting, watching.

  “How long are we going to wait?” one asked.

  “They want solid numbers. How many guards, wagons, horses, and people. If we go back without that information, someone gets a kicking, and that someone ain't going to be me,” the other one answered. The first grunted in reply.

  I let go of the tree. “They are scouting the caravan and are talking about someone who wants a count of everything it—how many guards, wagons, horses, and people.”

  Burt nodded. “Let’s head back to the caravan and let Vince decide how he wants to handle them.”

  We turned our horses back toward the caravan, but kept an easy pace, as if nothing was wrong.

  Chapter 11

  Sergeant Vince and the Caravan Master listened to our report. Looking at me, he said, “They mentioned no names?”

  I shook my head. “No, Sergeant, none.”

  “I think I know who they work for,” the Caravan Master said. We all looked at him. “Tomorrow night we'll be in Lord Southdale's lands. He will look to collect the King's tax on us. Just keep an eye on them to make sure that is in fact who they work for.”

  Burt and I rode the rest of the way in with the caravan. The watchers were still there when we arrived, but they didn't stay long.

  I reported to Sergeant Vince that they had gone. He nodded. I set Cookie's cook pit and oven up, as well as the latrine ditch, and water came from a creek nearby. Jessy arrived and we practiced.

  Rain woke us the next morning. I cast a spell to keep the rain off and keep me dry. The weather made packing up and moving miserable, but Burt and I headed out as soon as we ate.

  “We’ll still spar,” Burt said. “It’s good practice. You are not always going to be fighting on dry ground.” It made sense, so we practiced.

  The Caravan Master's presumption proved correct. Lord Westley of Southdale came calling with twenty men at arms and collected the King's tax. I thought the show of force was a bit much, but who was I to judge. I stayed away from them, as Lord Westley rode the circle and looked at each wagon.

  I was near the cook wagon. “Who built the fire pit and oven?” The lord asked.

  “We have a minor wizard with us; he made it.”

  “Where is he?” he asked, looking around.

  I stopped and bowed forward: “Here, M'lord.”

  “Perhaps you can come to my manner; I have some repairs that need to be made.”

  “Of course, M'lord. However, I must warn you; my spells are not strong and only last about a day. Then they fall apart. I am practicing to do better though.” He waved his hand, dismissing me.

  “Waste of my time,” he said.

  I faded back into the crowd. “Smart move, that,” Burt said from beside me. I grunted in return; we were all glad to put Southdale behind us.

  One day became a blur, like the last. I enjoyed the sparring and the weapons training and was getting better by the day. Jessy had me using my magic when we sparred. I think he was enjoying the challenge of trying to get past my defenses too.

  ***

  I came wide-awake; something was amiss. I sent my sense out to find what had stirred me and found there were four men at the edge of the woods, watching our camp. Our roving guard had just passed the picket when they made their move to come in. I waited to see which way they would go; they were coming for the horses.

  As soon as they got close to the horses, I thought, “Swallow them to their necks.” All four men dropped into the earth up to their necks. They began screaming as soon as it happened, and I got up and walked over to them. Seeing me, they started begging me to help them.

  “Why would I help you? I'm the one who put you there.” All their screaming roused the guards; Jessy was the first one to me.

  “Horse thieves,” I said. Jessy looked at them and chuckled.

  Sergeant Vince walked up. “What's this then?”

  “Horse thieves tried to sneak in on Grey. They got a surprise,” Jessy said.

  “Horse thieves, huh?”

  “Lies,” one shouted.

  “I must warn you; the more you lie the deeper you sink, and the hotter the fires of hell burn,” I told them.

  “Lies, I tell you!”

  I lowered them into the ground a bit more, and they started screaming again. I tried not to smile, but almost did.

  “Shut up, ya fool, or you'll bury us all,” one of the other thieves said.

  “So, what were ya doing here?” Sergeant Vince asked. None of them said anything. I lowered them some more.

  “Wait, we didn't lie; we said nothing!”

  “What can I tell you, hell must want you lot really bad.” I lowered them again.

  “Okay, okay, we were going to take a horse or two, but times are hard.”

  “No, you're just too lazy to work,” Sergeant Vince said. “Leave them there; we'll decide what to do with them in the morning.”

  Before going back to bed, I checked their purses. They only had a few coppers between them, but I took the coin in payment for waking me up.

  ***

  The next morning everyone ignored the four would-be thieves. The closer we got to leaving the more vocal they became.

  Jessy came by. “Sarge said to leave the dirt lose enough so they can dig themselves out after we leave.” I nodded, smiling.

  They were still screaming as they lost sight of the caravan. Burt and I rode ahead to scout. That must have been hilarious to Burt; he kept shaking his head, chuckling.

  “You're a devious man, Gray.”

  “In my defense, they interrupted my sleep.” He snorted, and we rode on.

  The caravan made stops to trade at small communities along the way. They would buy vegetables, and Cookie always bought eggs when available. There was rarely any trouble, and when there was, the guards hardly had to get involved. The Caravan Master usually took care of it.

  I kept my eyes open for small, unusual items that I could buy and sell later. I was here, so I might as well take advantage of the opportunity.

  My horse, who I was still yet to name, was a good mount. She never seemed to tire and required little care. I still brushed her down every night; she liked the attention, and it was calming to me.

  It started raining just after dark, and it felt like it would be with us for a while. We gathered at Sergeant Vince's fire; I was drinking a hot cup of tea.

  “Gray, can you do some magic thing to stop this rain?” one of the men asked. Everyone looked at me.

  “Yeah, but we'd have to sacrifice a virgin,” I answered. Everyone was shocked and looked at me. “The only problem with that is,” I paused a moment, “we'd have to find someone to pull Skeeter's duty.” Everyone busted out laughing, and even Burt chuckled. Skeeter was shaking his head, laughing along with everyone else.

  “Oh, you're funny,” Skeeter said. “I never realized wizards could tell jokes.”

  “I get one in every once in a while,” I said. From that night on, it seemed the guards accepted me as one of their own.

  It rained for the next two days, making our movement more difficult. When we finally arrived at the campsite, I saw it was in a low-lying area.

  “This will turn into a bog when the wagons get in here,” I said.

  “This place is always like this when it rains. We'll keep on the road tonight. Won't be as safe, but no wagons will get stuck.”

  I dismounted and walked out into the clearing. Kneeling, I put my hand into the earth. The ground was saturated. This was the lowest ground, so the water was settling here.

  “I could raise the whole clearing, b
ut would that be showing too much of my abilities?” I asked myself. I decided against raising the land and concentrated on what I wanted to do.

  “Dry this clearing for the next two days.” The ground dried out and became firm.

  “That should help,” I said.

  I set up the rest of the campsite while Burt went hunting. The creek they usually used for water was overflowing and muddy. I put a well in on the high side of the clearing, so we would have clear water. When the caravan arrived, they stopped on the road, as they had always done at this site when wet. The Caravan Master and a few others walked the clearing, checking the firmness of the ground.

  He looked at me and I nodded; he nodded in return. He called for the wagons to assume their usual circle camp. That earned me another silver coin. Over the next week, the roads dried, and travel went back to normal.

  ***

  Burt and I, as usual, were out in front of the caravan scouting. We found where many horses had crossed the road heading west within the last day. I had my senses ranging out, so I knew there was no one nearby. I stepped down from my horse, sank my hand into the earth, and felt nothing of the people who had passed.

  “No one close,” I told Burt.

  “How far out can you sense?” he asked.

  He had never asked me this before, but this was important.

  I shrugged. “Three miles, give or take.”

  He sat thinking a moment. “Let's get back to the caravan and tell Vince what we've found.”

  I mounted, and we started back. We put our horses into a fast trot they could hold for a long time without exhausting them. Before we arrived, I knew something was wrong.

  “The caravan's under attack,” I said.

  We urged our horses into a gallop and saw the smoke before we saw the wagons. Without urging, my horse started running faster. I could now see the wagons; at least two were burning. Raiders were riding the length of the caravan, shooting arrows into it.

  Without conscious consideration of what I was doing, “Bellum Canis,” came to me from Red's memories. Ten huge, stone war dogs erupted from the ground, running at full speed beside me.