Lyndon Hardy - Master of the five Magics

For a long time, nothing more happened. Compressed to near madness but holding to his one thought, Alodar resisted the weight which would crush him and strained his arms towards his chest.

Finally, after how long he could not tell, he felt a slight lessening of pressure. Then, with a sudden rush, the blackness ballooned to its original size. As quickly as it had vanished, his personality inflated to its former shape and size. He waited for another attack, but the limit of his bubble was quiet and still. He hesitated a while longer and then decided to act. Cautiously he opened a pinprick in the blanket, a tiny tunnel by which a whisper could reach him from the outside. For a moment there was silence. Then, in perfect clarity, a thought seeped through his screen.

"Please master, unhand me so that I may serve you," Elezar begged. "My body is broken and it will need repair."

Alodar struggled up on one arm, but Handar gently pushed him back down on the pallet. "Rest," the wizard said. "It all proceeds as you have commanded it. The lesser demons are being tracked by the greater and dispatched back whence they came. Your servant will ensure that they do not threaten us in like fashion again. And those subjugated, men and wizards alike are being restored to their former state. There is much confusion throughout the land, but I and the other freed wizards are spreading the word about what has happened. And the fair lady and the rest have survived it all, with no more than minor scratches and wounds."

Alodar nodded in understanding and slipped back into his painful and exhausted slumber.

"You recovered far faster from your wounds after Kelric's enchantment," Grengor said irritably as they slowly bumped along. "A month's lingering in the north while Vendora and the rest marched in triumph back into Ambrosia! You should know by now not to trust what she and the other suitors might do in your absence."

Alodar did not immediately reply, deep in his own thoughts. Like waves lashed by a storm, they crashed against the rocks of his innermost self. He looked at Handar, now freed from Balthazar's dominance, and across at Aeriel riding a pony at his side. She dropped her eyes and did not return his glance. He touched the proclamation which had come at last, fingering the thick seal and lines of signatures from the grateful subjects far and wide. He thought of his satisfaction in solving the riddles of Iron Fist and the Cycloid Guild, the self-esteem from having braved the Fumus Mountains and the sorcerer's eye, the pride in having Cedric's respect. He puzzled over how empty the glory seemed now that it was won.

"The summons explicitly stated that I was to travel when I felt ready," Alodar said. "And we broke camp as soon as the wizard's council was concluded. I am sure the fair lady had enough to keep her occupied in my absence."

"Without the persuasive presence of the archimage, I doubt if our agreement could have been forged in a year, let alone a month," Handar told Grengor. "Alodar properly saw his duty to serve his craft before the whim of a queen."

The wizard nodded and continued. "And the accordance was a good one. Elezar has agreed only to halt voluntary and coordinated transfer between the worlds. He cannot stop a summons by humankind, even if he wished to. As long as we possess the knowledge and means to reach through flame across the gulf which separates us, even without the ambitions of a prince, there will always be risk and potential for great peril.

"To submit to periodic examination by one's peers is a difficult step for men of my craft to take, but it gives us a chance to detect something amiss before it gets out of hand. It was Alodar's persistence and vivid retelling of how vast were Elezar's powers compared to our own that finally convinced us to establish the testing procedures. And with my awakened comrades and the most powerful who practice today in agreement, the lesser will follow. After these ceremonies in Ambrosia, whatever they may be, I will cross the isthmus to the south and carry the word further."

Grengor did not reply, and the four turned their horses from the muddy side street onto the cobblestoned avenue. Mentally Alodar pictured the screaming crowds, swirling streamers, and slow procession to the palace gates. He tried to recapture the exhilarating taste of so long ago: the vision of the royal guardsmen clearing the way; the brave lads darting from the side to touch the horse that bore him; the young girls batting their eyes as he passed; the chant that echoed from the walls in a deafening crescendo. Alodar the hero, Alodar the savior of the fair lady, Alodar of Procolon!

Alodar licked his lips and frowned at the dryness in his mouth. The image was as vivid as before, but the excitement which should accompany it was gone. As they approached the main boulevard, he reached across his saddle and squeezed Aeriel's hand.

They turned the corner, and the empty street rang with the clop of their horses' hooves. Alodar reined to a halt and looked about with puzzlement. He scanned the line of rooftops to the palace in the distance. Both skylines were deserted, as silent as the walkways underneath. Ambrosia was as unmoving as the quiet and open sea.

For several minutes, the three halted in silence. Then they heard the sound of horses other than their own, and Alodar saw four riders coming their way.

"Lord Festil, Feston, Basil, Duncan," Grengor exclaimed as the riders drew near. "Where is anyone else? Did not Melab's message of our coming reach the queen? Is not the reception and wedding ceremony prepared?"

"A wedding ceremony there was, indeed," Festil announced as he stopped before them. "But it was for that unclean nomad from the north. She rushed it through as soon as she felt she could. Only after it was done did Vendora send the summons demanded by her subjects. For three days now the entire city has wined on the palace grounds in celebration."

"Then my summons is for an empty honor and no more," Alodar said. He turned to Aeriel and smiled. "I am no longer honor bound. Grak is destined to be the victorious suitor, after all."

"You do well to cover your anger," Festil replied. "With low cunning, she conspired to satisfy a personal whim at the expense of the state. And the barbarian! Already his outland ways offend many who have upheld Procolon's proud tradition."

"Land for his kinsmen as reward for their defense of the fair lady," Feston growled. "Land held for centuries by the oldest of our noble houses and ripped away less than an hour after the crown of consort was on his head."

"Talk of new taxes," Basil muttered, "and hints of confiscation of my jewels as a national treasure. Every merchant on the street laments about how an outsider tramples on the delicate balance of factions which has supported the queen. And that stiff-necked Cedric has been made grand marshall of arms."

"He demands magic swords and shields in exchange for the right of the guilds to keep their gates sealed," Duncan cut in. "And room in the royal chambers for the objects, but not for those who would wield them. None of the magicians will stand for it long. With the right one to lead us, the barbarian soon will be deposed."

"Yes, the orbholder speaks truthfully," Festil agreed as he dismounted. Feston and the others followed. As Alodar watched, they knelt and placed their swords at his feet.

"There is doubt and suspicion still," Festil said. "Vendora's grip on the throne is little better than before. The demons have left us all untrusting. Only one stands out from the rest. Only one has the unblemished standard and reputation around which all can rally. Take up the banner, Alodar, and the peerage will follow."

"And the merchants also," Basil continued. "With my fortune and the promise of a return to the way things were, none on the streets will dare oppose you."