The Sword of Wisimir

Chapter 17: Knowledge (Part 2)

"You will deliver the city to me."

Urin flinched away from the Magister's gaze. They had returned to his study on the main floor of the building and a fire crackled in the hearth, but it did little to warm the chill around Urin's heart. Something in the room set his teeth on edge and it wasn't just the company.

"When the time is right, you will be ideally positioned. Lady Tarn will resist us, but you can take care of her. I will give you clear instructions and you will remove her."

"I can't..." Urin blurted out and instantly wished he hadn't. The three feet between himself and the Magister disappeared and Leel's face was an inch from his own.

"Please, defy me. You have no idea how much I would enjoy that."

The old man's breath smelled of cloves and something else; something dead. Urin's lips started to shake. "I didn't mean—"

"Yes you did, that's exactly what you meant." Leel took hold of his injured hand with both of his; skeletal fingers stroking the back as he gripped Urin's wrist. "You spoke instinctively," he soothed. "I need to hear your heart my friend, it is important that I know just what you are."

"No," Urin replied. "I meant, I can't, she hates me, blames me for the theft. I'll be lucky to see out the week. After that she'll find someone else." Someone more trustworthy.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Leel said and let him go. Urin rubbed his scarred arm and glanced around as it opened and a dishevelled looking soldier with an eye patch entered.

"Malthus," Leel purred. "What kept you?"

The man shuffled reluctantly into the room. "Had to sneak off quiet, case they missed me."

"And you've found our thief?"

Malthus nodded. "Oh yeah, just as you thought, we got him. He's fighting in the Tourney."

"Is he now?" Leel seemed delighted. "Then I'll be able to meet him for myself."

"Just as you wish," Malthus bowed.

"And you've found the gold?"

"Yeah, he had it in the stores, gave hisself away when he got greedy."

Leel turned to Urin. "Then it looks like you'll be in luck, apprehending the thief and retrieving some of the stolen monies should return you to the Lady Governor's good graces, just in time."

"What about the thief?" Malthus asked.

"Stick close to him," Leel said. "When I give the instruction you know what to do."

Malthus bowed again. "O' course," he said and left as the wizard waved him away. Leel went to the door and shut it carefully.

"You will stay with me," he told Urin, "until we reach the Governor at the barracks."

"I'm expected back," Urin said. "They'll want me to organise the progress and meet Lord Meade."

Leel smiled. "You have been unavoidably detained, owing to developments in our investigation. I am sure Lady Tarn will forgive you."

He turned away, walking to the far side of the room towards the strange mirror he had seen used before. Once again, Urin was struck by how strongly Leel moved for a man of his age, much stronger than before. His fingers brushed the edge of the frame, before resting on the box in the corner. The same box Urin had seen him purchase from Maximillian at the docks.

"You needn't worry; I have no designs for political power. Wisimir will not change much and by the time I am finished with it, I will pass it to you."

"The King will never stand for this; it'll cause civil war—"

"No it won't," Leel's smile widened. "You spend too much time trying to work out the consequences and plan. You can't help it, it's part of your vocation. This time, I tell you, forget consequences, just do your part and leave the rest for me to worry about. It will make things much easier."

"Do I have a choice?" Urin said.

Leel nodded. "Of course, but you know what will happen if you choose wrongly."

Urin flinched and looked away. "Yes, I know," he admitted.

"Good."

---

The mountains changed to hills and the stink of humanity grew stronger.

She flew lower now, the hunger forcing her to stop and feed. She met little resistance for none could match her in fight or flight. The Dragon breath would quell all opposition, but here, she had no need of it.

A fat calf, half a herd of sheep, a farmer and his young wife; all these she devoured greedily and quickly. Her child still cried out, and left her restless with each delay, but she knew she would be no use to him if she arrived weak.

With each mile, she sensed more of his plight. Magic and blood; dark robes and dead human eyes. None of these things would stop her, but they made her cautious and wary. Wizards had done much ruin to her people in the years of her long sleep, she had listened to the cries of her kin as they fought and died. A wizard was not to be taken lightly.

So she would prepare.