Beauty and the Magician (Tales of the Red Witch Book 1)

Chapter 19 - Disputing a family dispute

Eben landed in a puff of glossy black feathers and swirls of dry dust. A clearing of a throat and the chink of drawn swords and rifles made him straighten up and look about his surroundings. He startled and then lifted his hands in surrender as he was surrounded by guards pointing their various metal weapons at him.

This was not the welcome he was expecting. Hadn't they heard what had happened to the footman back at the palace? Hendrik and Pieter should really reevaluate their hiring practices. Or maybe reexamine their training regime. Surely, they had books for such training that contained chapters on magicians. Eben's face should be prominently displayed in said chapter with the note that he was too important to be detained.

These guards had apparently never read that chapter. They were as ill-trained as the palace footmen. He would speak to Pieter about it... if he ever went back to the palace. And if he didn't find Andri before the end of his month then he would definitely be adding the palace of Grune Stadt to his growing list of places to avoid.

He took a deep breath and focused on calming his ruffled feathers. It was not such an easy thing to do. His mood had been foul ever since his miserable day in Wohnort and this welcome had done little to improve it.

His eyes combed the façade of castle Jegerborg, taking in the grey stone and round towers in the classic Vallesian style. A warm breeze floated by bringing with it the smell of hay and horses from the large opulent stables. A flag fluttering over the keep made a rustle and cracking noise breaking the country peacefulness. Though to be fair, the dozen guards pointing pointy objects at Eben also did quite a bit to ruin the country peacefulness.

"State your business, magician!" One of the guards commanded with a slight jab of his rifle. The guard was short and broad, at least a head shorter than Eben though twice as wide. He wore the red uniform of Landet Gress's army and a helmet covered his round head and framed his potato like face.

Eben scowled at the man. He should turn them all into weasels or roosters or canaries. Starting, of course, with Mr. Potato Face. He couldn't help but smile at the thought, but no, he would try to play nice. He had not exactly been happy with himself after he had turned that foul man into a toad in Wohnort and he had made himself promise not to lose his temper and do it again.

He remembered the disapproval and fear in the shopgirl's eyes. It had bothered him and it had continued to eat at him long after it should have been forgotten. He wasn't sure why. He rarely gave any thought to what other thought of him. But she was different, she stuck in him like a burr.

"I'm a friend of his majesty. I'm here on his business."

"And what business is that?" The potato faced guard growled back. Eben was convinced the guard had some kind of short potato man complex. It was the only thing to explain his need to confront a magician. Someone should mash him.

Eben smirked at his own thought which only earned him a sharp lumpy scowl from Mr. Potato Face.

"Perhaps you should go ask him. I could turn you into a canary so you can get there quicker." Eben lowered his arms crossing them over his chest. He was not afraid of a bunch of sword and rifle wielding guards.

His comment earned him a quick jab in the back with a sword. "Hey!" He shouted. He may not be afraid but the sword point still hurt. He was sure it was going to leave a mark. He grumbled as he rubbed the tender spot on his ribs. "If you've put a hole in my coat I'll-" But he swallowed the rest of his statement.

He willed his temper to remain at a smolder. The guards were not worth his trouble or more of Hendrik's ire.

Or a certain shopgirl's disapproval. Where had that thought come from? She wasn't even here. She wouldn't even know if he decided to reduce the guards down to a pile of spuds.