C. Brittain - Mage Quest

Ascelin also thought it was funny, from the imperfectly concealed laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, but the rest of us, who had lived for years with the royal nephew, knew enough to keep our faces perfectly sober.

“Are you responsible for these ribbons?” Dominic asked Hugo with steely calm.

“Of course,” said the young man gaily. “Don’t you think they add a certain spritely air?”

“I don’t want my horse to have a spritely air,” said Dominic, a hard twist to his mouth.

But Hugo, laughing and setting out the tin teacups, paid no attention. I didn’t think it was quite as funny as he did, but I did have to admire his nerve in getting close enough to the stallion’s heels to braid in the ribbons. It took Dominic nearly until we were ready to go to get them out again.

The next day when we stopped for lunch Dominic made some excuse to stand up and go over to the horses. He was gone for several minutes, and when he came back, well wrapped up in his gray cloak against the cool air, he was frowning.

“Have you examined your sword recently, Hugo?” he asked gravely. “I just noticed it when I went to check on Whirlwind, and it looked-well, I don’t want to accuse our wizard of anything, but I would have to say it looked enchanted.”

Hugo jumped up, and so did I. We hurried to where his horse stood grazing, a long sheath hanging from the saddle.

But something was wrong. Instead of a hilt protruding from the top, there was what looked like a big smoked sausage. I probed with magic. That was certainly what it was.

“My sword!” cried Hugo in dismay, reaching for it. “What’s happened to it?”

There came a sound of a low chuckle from behind us, rough-edged as though it had not been used very often. When we spun around, Dominic tossed his cloak back to show that he held Hugo’s sword concealed beneath it.

Hugo, incredulous, slowly drew the sausage from his sheath. Dominic was really laughing now. The sausage, three feet long, was wrapped its entire length in pink ribbons.

We came over a hilltop, buffeted by a damp wind. Dominic, riding in front, pulled up hard.

Done in the valley before us was a small merchant caravan, half a dozen mule-drawn carts accompanied by two mounted men. But the mounted men had their hands up and were trying to control their skittish mounts with their knees. For on the hillside just above them, their backs turned to us, were four helmeted horsemen holding drawn bows.

Hugo reacted at once. Not even taking time to pull on his helmet, he gave a yell and kicked his horse forward. Dominic and Ascelin were only a second behind him. I hadn’t seen Dominic move that fast in years.

The startled bandits spun around, trying unsuccessfully to maintain their seats and keep their bows steady. Before they could aim again, our party was on them.

Hugo swung his sword in a great arc toward the bandit who seemed to be the leader. It slashed through his crimson cloak, but the steel bounced with a dull clang off the armor hidden underneath. The bandit’s bow flew from his hands as Ascelin grabbed the momentarily-stunned leader and wrenched him from his horse. Dominic whirled his mace, and two well-aimed blows on two more bandits’ arms made them drop their bows in anguish.

I had recovered from surprise enough at this point to come forward and start putting paralysis spells on everyone. The two bandits Dominic had clubbed toppled from their horses, and the leader went still in Ascelin’s hands. But that left one more.

I looked up and saw him galloping desperately, away down the valley. The other bandits’ horses ran, riderless, behind him.

“Shall I fly after him?” I yelled to Dominic.

“Let him go,” the prince answered with satisfaction. “They’re bound to have friends, and the friends ought to hear what happens to bandits.”

The king and Joachim, who had been left behind, came up with our pack horses at the same time as the mounted men from the caravan seemed to decide we weren’t a second group of bandits about to turn on them, having once dispatched the first group.

We all came together by the wagons at the bottom of the hill, a group of varied emotions. Dominic, Ascelin, and Hugo were highly pleased with themselves, I thought all out of proportion. Although there were only three of them to the four bandits, they had had the advantage of surprise as well as Ascelin’s size, plus the assistance of a supposedly competent wizard, me. I myself was angry that it had taken me so long to react; Hugo would have killed the leader if it hadn’t been for his armor, whereas I should have been able to disarm him easily with magic. The king looked excited and a little apprehensive, Joachim concerned, and the knights who were supposed to be protecting the caravan embarrassed.

A man in a rich purple cloak jumped off the first of the wagons. “Thank you!” he said heartily. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come along,” with a sharp glance at his knights. “We hadn’t expected to meet bandits in this region-although I myself am only taking this road for the first time, since the lord in the next river valley over started charging tolls on his bridges. We have a lot of valuable silks here on the way to market. Can I reward you with a few bolts? The color of your choice, for yourselves or your ladies?”

The king smiled. “We appreciate your offer, but we don’t need a reward. I’m the king of Yurt.” So much, I thought, for traveling anonymously. “Even when not at home, I feel it part of royal responsibility to keep the roads safe for honest men-and you can tell that my knights feel the same way!”

“What shall we do with them?” asked Ascelin, stirring the three paralyzed bandits with one toe. They were breathing, but they were stiff and immobile, and I doubted they would remember much of this.

“We should kill them,” said Hugo enthusiastically.

“No,” said the king thoughtfully. “We may have caught them, but I have no rights of justice outside my kingdom.”

“And you can’t kill a defenseless man,” said Ascelin to Hugo reprovingly.

“Look at this, Hugo,” said Dominic pointedly. “The bandit leader has an earring just like yours.”

“We passed a castle about an hour ago,” said the merchant, pointing along the road in the direction that we were going. “You can just see the turrets beyond that hill. If the castellan there doesn’t have rights of justice, he’ll certainly have a dungeon where these malefactors can be kept until they’re turned over to the proper authorities.” He looked at their motionless forms quizzically, then at me. “What did you do with them?” he asked with what I hoped was awe.

“Just a little trick we wizards know,” I said airily, fairly satisfied myself with my ultimate role in this.

As we continued south, the bandits tied onto the pack horses, I positioned my horse next to Hugo’s so I could talk to him. Joachim seemed to have the same idea, for I discovered him on Hugo’s other side.

I spoke up quickly, feeling that the young lord needed to hear good sense before he heard Christian morality. “Hugo,” I said conversationally, “you could have gotten yourself killed back there.”

“But I didn’t,” he said with a grin.

“You might have had an arrow in the eye if the bandits had been on foot rather than on horseback.”

“That’s why I yelled, to startle the horses.” I was quite sure he had not thought this through, but I couldn’t very well contradict him. I had a sudden and very unpleasant vision, of Sir Hugo’s party starting happily home from the Holy Land and of bandits leaping out of ambush and putting an arrow through Evrard. But I couldn’t mention this to Hugo, because the next arrow would have been for his father.