Bloodstone - Power of Youth (Book 3) (6 page)

Chapter Seven

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T
he licking flames warmed the front
of Unca’s disheveled clothes as he thrust out his hands and pulled his hood closer over his face. In the poorer sections of Happly Keep, the capital city and only real city of any size in the Dukedom of Happly, the open fires in the street were the only source of heat. This year’s winter seemed to reluctantly hang on. It was nearly spring and Unca still shivered in the chill air. He looked up into the sky and saw the gray smudges of snowflakes descend from the white sky.

How did Sallia fare at his house? Willow would take care of her. The princess had become more of a person and less of a willful princess in their months of seclusion. He had regretted leaving her along with his housekeeper, but he had actually begun to regard Sallia as a woman. His feeling for her had become something other than fatherly. That wasn’t a good thing for an old man. The prospect of writing a letter of his progress at Crackledown, and now at Happly, made him shiver as much as the cold. What would he say?

He had left the two women, in part, to cool off his feelings for Sallia. Once he had wondered if Willow had attracted him, but she never did in all of their years together. Then he fled with the Princess. He had no business thinking of the Princess with such ‘tenderness’. Not at his age and not with his role in the king and queen’s deaths.

He tried to eradicate these thoughts that had plagued him for months. He waited for an hour, stamping in the cold, windy air until a figure dressed much like himself bumped into him and whispered ‘Follow’ in his ear.

His guide led him through twisting lanes. Ramshackle two and three story houses and tenements leaned this way and that over the roughly cobbled streets. The person opened a door to a candlemaker’s shop and disappeared within. Unca followed, relieved by the warmth of the shop. The shopkeeper stayed silent and nodded his head back towards a dingy velvet curtain that acted as a door to the rear. The smell of wax mingled with a cacophony of other scents that assaulted his nose.

Unca pulled back his hood and took as shallow of a breath as possible. His guide showed him to a chair at a table covered with multi-colored blobs of wax. His guide pulled her hood back showing the face of an older woman.

“You are from the Red Kingdom?”

Unca nodded. “I am seeking information about what has gone on in Happly, since the duke announced his alliance with Duke Histron.”

“You are a rebel?”

Unca tried to restrain a smile. He’d never thought of himself as a rebel at any time in his life. “No, but I don’t support Duke Histron. That and rebellion are two different things.”

“Perhaps to you.” The woman’s voice grated as she spoke. Unca thought she might be in her fifties with her hair just going gray. “What information I have is free of charge, but it is dangerous.”

“Dangerous? I am merely trying for discretion here.”

She chuckled. The voice changed from common to cultured. “I know who you are. I’ve seen you at Foxhome, Unca the wizard.”

He peered into the woman’s eyes searching his brain to see if he recognized her.

“You wouldn’t know me. I attended to Mariam, the Duchess of Happly until the duke took care of her.” The woman sniffed. “Milady was killed by Duke Histron’s Dakkoran wizard. Happly wanted it done as payment for his loyalty.” The woman spat on the floor. “She was the nicest thing, ever.”

“Why do you tell me these things?” Unca thought that the duchess had died from an illness. Did the woman lie?

She grunted. “You sent out feelers for information. I responded. I want to rebel against Happly, but I am powerless.”

Unca sighed. “I am about as powerless as you, my dear lady. I am but a shell of what I once was. Some wizards lose their Affinity to the nexus as they age. Some don’t, but I’m not one of those. I am merely trying to make sense of what’s going on in the world before I die. I have no authority over King Billeas’s former forces. I’m afraid I am an agent only of myself.” His position sounded so pathetic. He wondered how this Mariam perceived him.

“Look to the continent of Zarron. Their emperor fancies himself as the Dark Lord and is represented by a wizard named Peleor. It was that wizard that killed my Duchess Mariam with some kind of a killing touch. The duke has had a procession of women in his bed ever since. It is said that he pines for the Restella, the princess of Valetan.”

“The warrior?”

The woman shrugged. “If she’s the youngest, yes. I’m not in a position to know much more. I still serve in the keep itself and knew of the Dakkoran wizard. As for the princess, the duke boasts he will bed the woman before midsummer next. He has also been seeking mercenaries to join his army. It’s said he also seeks battle mages. Happly’s peasants are not adept in fighting.”

“Or rebelling?” Unca said.

She looked away, scowling. “You have the gist of it, wizard. Perhaps you can do something.”

He shifted in his seat. “How much do you wish for this information?”

“Nothing. Maintain a spot for Happly in your mind, sir. If you can spread the word, my task is accomplished.”

Unca sat thinking with his chin in his hand. “Can you tell me anything about this Peleor?” She wouldn’t know anything about ‘the killing touch,’ but Unca had heard about it before. He had never thought such a thing to be of much useful value since a sword had longer reach and any arrow could bring down a wizard as easily as any other man.

“I can’t. He comes and goes, but he’s never here for long. Perhaps he spends most of his time in the Red Kingdom.”

“You’re probably right. I’ll make sure you information gets in the hands of the right people.” Unca left a handful of Red Kingdom silver coins on the table. “If you can’t use this, perhaps the candlemaker can.” He rose and departed.

Unca wandered around the city of Happly Keep and ducked into a bookstore. He never knew when he might find something interesting, since this was his first visit and, hopefully, his last to Happly Keep. He took a deep breath and liked the smell of this shop much better than the candlemaker’s. Old parchment, old books with leather bindings. He even chanced a smile.

“I don’t want you in here to keep warm. Out!” the bookseller said. He had a pair of spectacles hanging on his nose. The man might be Unca’s age, but short and plump and bald with a white fringe.

“I have the coins to buy a book should I chance to see one I fancy,” Unca said. He tossed a gold coin on the counter. “Just so you know I’m not just in here to keep warm.”

The bookseller relaxed once he examined the coin. “Are you looking for anything special?”

“Ah. I have the barest Affinity and collect interesting books. I wonder if you have any scrolls or tomes on magic.”

“Not much call for such in Happly Keep. The Duke’s grandfather purged the land of wizards and the like, but I have an old inventory if you don’t mind rummaging around in the attic. Most of it came from the Duke’s library when he routed out those with power and folks who could wield it. You’ll have to be careful with the lantern.”

“I have a library of my own in my house far away. Forgive my outfit. I wanted to blend in with the citizenry.”

The bookseller growled. “You have more citizenry to blend in with these days. Duke Happly is raising an army and that means higher taxes and more people are thrown out into the streets.”

“More conscripts, I imagine.”

“Indeed, that goes along with the taxes. I don’t wish to climb the ladder to the attic. Going up is fine, but going down… Well, you know how it is when you get old.”

“I do. But I can still move about just fine. Where are the books located?”

“Just above me. Good luck. I’ll give you a good price to take any off of my hands.” He gave Unca a small lantern.

“I’ll find my way from here,” Unca said as he ascended the stairs.

The attic might have been little warmer than outside, but Unca didn’t mind if he found an addition to his library. As much as he was forced into returning, it was time to head back to Sallia. He missed the princess more than he did Willow. The fact still surprised him. He peered through the gloom. The tiny window provided a little light, but he could see that snow still fell outside. Makeshift shelves filled the attic and most of those shelves held books. He rummaged around until he found a box filled with scrolls. The labels were in an archaic script from hundreds of years ago and were on various topics of magic theory.

Unca skimmed the first words of a few of the scrolls and had books that dealt with the same topics back home. He found a smaller box of scrolls shoved behind a stack of magic primers. These scrolls seemed to be even older than the other collection. His heart beat faster when he found one that talked about the magical qualities of the Bloodstone. He clutched at the leather pouch holding the Bloodstone around his neck. Unca had taken it with him, since he couldn’t bear to leave it unguarded at his holding.

He sat on a stool underneath the window and unrolled the scroll that revealed three long parchments. If they were on the Bloodstone, then he had more information in his hands that he had in his entire library.

Unca knew or surmised most of what he read. He found that former wizards to the Dukes of Happly wrote the scrolls when the various dukedoms and kingdoms were under the rule of an ancient overking of Besseth. A thousand years old, at least. He’d pay any price for this set of scrolls.

After taking his time descending the stairs, Unca laid the scrolls on the counter. The look on the bookseller’s face told him that he’d have to haggle some. “I’ll give you three silvers for these. There are three parchments. A silver apiece.”

“Those are too old to go for such a small price. A gold each and they are yours.”

Unca sighed and continued to work down the price until he departed with a gold’s worth of scrolls. He’d bargained for priceless scrolls and couldn’t help breaking out into a smile as he walked down the street. He ducked into the seedy inn where he stayed and felt he’d gotten more than a good enough feel for Happly to leave.

He stayed up late after forcing down his nearly-rancid dinner while reading the scrolls. The pouch lay in front of him. The constant feel of the power of the stone only intensified as he read. The writer talked about the Bloodstone extending life as he understood it from his library, but it also provided the actual words to the spell that would give the holder youth. There was a caveat. Once invoked, the spell caster could no longer tap into Affinity. No mention had been made of how long the state lasted or if it was a glamour or the actual transformation that the book back at his holding described. Gain youth and lose power. The passage also stopped before discussing what happened when another possessed the stone.

Unca spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, fantasizing in his own mind of becoming young again. Could he do so without his magical power? He didn’t know. He had told Sallia that he had little power, but that was relative. Unca used his power in tiny dribs and drabs all the time.

Morning came and Unca still worried about what he should do. He’d kept from touching the stone, but the temptation finally gnawed at him.

He descended the stairs for breakfast and heard soldiers asking the innkeeper about a tall old man. They described him no worse than he could himself.

“Has he been flashing around any Red Kingdom money like this?” a soldier said. 

Unca caught the glint of gold. The bookseller!  He quietly hurried up the stairs and stood in his room.  He looked down to the street below and saw eight more soldiers stamping on the cobbles, their breaths occluding their faces.

His felt his heart beat in his chest.  He couldn’t be caught and leave Sallia defenseless!  The Bloodstone hung around his neck.  The scrolls stuck out of his open saddlebag.  He couldn’t!  Yet, when he heard the clomping of feet on the stairs a few flights below, Unca had no choice. 

The Bloodstone seemed to burn in his hand as he held it tightly and spoke the spell. There was no guarantee it would work, but Unca didn’t see a way out.  There was a flash of brilliant red light behind his eyes and he collapsed to the floor.

A moment later, Unca sensed the door opening.  His mind was reeling as if he had drunk himself senseless. He didn’t have the use of his limbs and could barely sense what happened around him.