[Epik Fantasy 01.0] Hero in a Halfling Read online

  “I was told it’s urgent?”

  Sir Robert gave Nacer a lazy shrug.

  “How many messages have you intercepted?”

  Sir Robert counted on his fingers. He held up his hand. Three.

  “And where are the troops now? Back toward King’s Way?”

  The knight nodded.

  “Damn, they’ll never get here in time to help. Can I count on you?” He hadn’t meant to ask it, but the words slipped out. Sir Robert shrugged again.

  Nacer stepped around him; he gritted his teeth and opened the door to the king’s chamber. Not today, he thought. Any day but today. This wasn’t part of the plan.

  “I told you,” the king said snidely. “A wizard’s plot! I’m coming down for the proceedings! We’ll have him strung up by nightfall.”

  The king was getting dressed, fitting his sausage legs into his britches and throwing on a linen shirt. Not today.

  This was the type of thing his fellow conspirators failed to comprehend. Their jobs were pretty straightforward, well, for the most part. But Nacer’s job required diplomacy. Tact. Sure, he had coerced the king to outlaw magic—sort of. But this, this was a chink in the preverbal armor, a consequence of managing an entire city-state.

  “And you doubted me!” the king chastised. “I don’t even know why I keep you around anymore.”

  “But… sire,” Nacer said, “we can’t be sure…” He trailed off, thinking.

  This was what he was good at. He just needed to turn this wizard ordeal on its head. He could benefit from it, somehow. Now that Nacer knew who was behind the conspiracy, he had an absolute advantage. And his stock would rise after this—after they saw what he could do. He could divert all eyes from the trolls completely. This could be his greatest triumph.

  And maybe after the trial, he could even devise a plot against this Epiman fellow.

  “It’s true,” Nacer began. “A wizard could conjure almost anything from anywhere. He could’ve lured the trolls here. Most likely, a ploy to set the city against you.”

  “Exactly where my mind was,” the king agreed. And they headed down for the trial.

  Sergeant Todder shuffled down the dungeon steps. He could count the number of times he’d been down here on the one hand—on one finger. Caught stealing the squire’s horse, the memory of the cold night, his own back against the cragged wall, sent a shiver down his long spine. One night was all it had taken. He tracked through the slick mud floor, black bars on either side of him. The smell of dank sea water, sweat, and other bodily excrement was overbearing.

  “I’m a monster,” a goblin in the cell to his left claimed, before running at the bars full force and bouncing backward with a clang. You are, Todder thought.

  The wizard, amazingly enough, had gone willingly. They had sat idly at the bar beside each other for years now. They’d chit-chatted. Even clanged their pints together once or twice, though Todder had forgotten why. But still, a wizard? He didn’t even put up a fight. He could have at least given Brendan something to tell his children about some day. It had all seemed so casual, nonchalant.

  They had walked Gabby into Kings and down into the dungeons, filled out the required forms, and left him there. The real trouble came when they got back to the wall.

  “What’d’ya think happened? Earthquake?” Brendan had asked.

  “Guessin’ not. We’d have probably felt it. Plus, I don’t think an earthquake would squish Gareth’s head like that.”

  “Garrett, Sarge.”

  “Right.” They both grimaced.

  Captain Snyder hadn’t been too keen on getting woken in the dead of night, but had gone up to find the Grand Counselor awake in his chamber. Once the two guards had told their story, they were hastened away to let the more important men speak in private.

  Now, Todder imagined Brendan curled up on some small bed in the Watch housing right now. While Todder himself was running on some of that coffee stuff. He stepped in a puddle; the muck sloshed and stuck to his boots, making a sickening sucking sound with each of his next steps. He rounded on Gabby’s cell.

  “The king will see you now,” Todder said with an air of dignity that even surprised him.

  “The king?” Gabby said. “Now that’s a surprise.” But was it? Gabby always did seem to have some air of knowing in his voice. Wizard speak, Todder thought, a constant state of pretending to know what is going on—like the way the sergeant always nodded, saying ‘uh huh’ and ‘yes sir’ when a new captain gave him orders.

  “You enjoy your time alone last night?” Todder asked him, unlocking the bolt.

  “Time?” Gabby said. “I'm doing the time of my life—can’t you see? I was just having a nice chat with the goblin over there.” The wizard opened his hands to the damp surroundings of the dungeon. “And this beautiful view.”

  “Are you tryin’ to trick me or somethin’?”

  “No. Just polite conversation. We haven’t spoken often.”

  “No,” Todder said. “Not really.”

  “That’s a shame,” Gabby said, but it didn’t sound like he meant it. “So, what do you think?”

  “About?”

  “About this trial.” He pointed up. “You think maybe just a slap on the wrist. Oh, and you didn’t happen to find out if the halfling won, did you?”

  Todder shook his head. “Been busy with some other things.”

  He didn’t have the heart to tell the wizard what was about to happen, and with that, the two were off, back up the dungeon steps.

  19

  The Last Juror

  The Great Hall was in its usual state, the one Nacer was used to seeing daily, a mock courtroom of sorts. However, the throne had been moved back from storage. Its gold plated legs, its ruby encrusted trappings, and its decorative engravings sat there ready for the king. Why the man had to preside over this day’s proceedings was beyond his Grand Counselor.

  The wizard stood in a box below the rest of the court, with only the one guard standing there beside him. He looked barely disheveled in his purple robe and hat. Nacer had thought a night in the dungeon could do better—or worse. He made a note to make a note to check into things down in the dungeons, make sure they were in a right state of disrepute.

  “Take off the damn hat in the presence of our king,” Nacer hissed. Wasn’t that someone else’s job? Wasn’t there usually a guard who said things like that?

  “Am I in the presence of the king?” the wizard chided, looking around.

  So it’s going to be like that, Nacer thought.

  The wizard took off the hat, revealing a rather lush mop of black salt and pepper hair. Nacer coughed gingerly; he had expected a bald head—or something close. Now it was the wizard’s scraggly gray beard that seemed out of place. His hair was rather stately, much like Nacer’s combed mop-top.

  “Where’s my usual guard?” Nacer asked the oaf of a Sergeant beside the wizard.

  Todder shrugged, looking back. At that moment, Captain Snyder strode into the room.

  “Captain,” Nacer said. “We were just discussing the whereabouts of my guard. You know, the usual fellow.”

  “Had to get him setup for the Wall tonight,” Snyder said. “We lost a lot of good men last night.”

  “Boys, really,” Todder barked out of turn.

  “Right,” Nacer said disdainfully. He looked at the king’s throne expectantly. “We’ll be needing the jury of his peers.”

  He waited. When nothing happened, he locked eyes with the sergeant. “Now!” he said.

  Todder bumbled to the end of the hall and out the door. Some moments later, he came back with a mishmash of commoners; they were herded into a jury box on the side of the room.

  “You call that a jury of my peers?” the wizard said.

  There were two elves, a dwarf, a half dozen men, and what was obviously a child. No, not a child, a halfling, and finally a woman. She looked part donkey. The girl smiled cautiously at the wizard.

  “You’re suggesting we add
a few magicians?” Nacer said. “See, that poses a problem, the only other wizards left in the city have graciously decided to give testimony—against you. And unfortunately, our witch population has, for lack of better phrase, dried up.” He clasped his hands together thoughtfully. “No, this will have to do.”

  “And ma’am,” Nacer’s eyes glazed over Gertrude, “you there with the, erm, horse teeth—I mean, in the red smock. I take it you know this man?”

  Gerdy’s eyes widened. Yes, I catch everything, Nacer thought—it part of what made him such a good Grand Counselor.

  “I do,” Gertrude said sheepishly. She hesitantly looked down at Epik, who seemed to contemplate something for himself.

  “Please step into the booth with your friend. He may need some representation.”

  “I didn't say I needed counsel,” Gabby said sternly. Gerdy moved over to the booth. They both looked put out.

  A loud knock reverberated around the room. King Simmons entered nobly, followed by Sir Robert and some Palace Guard. Both the watchmen behind the wizard stood at attention. The king took his seat on the throne, and he nodded for Nacer to begin.

  “And so begins the trial of the wizard—” Nacer started. “Wizard,” he said, “do you have a title? Is it Gabby the Grandiose or something of equal misrepresentation?”

  “No,” the wizard said. “I do not. But if you'd like to call me Grandiose, I wouldn’t—”

  Gertrude nudged him in the ribs—her first official act as counsel.

  “And so begins the trial of the wizard, Gabby, erm, owner and operator of Gabby’s Magical Emporium, 212 Gate Row, Jersy. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, your highness,” Gabby said, bowing his head to the king.

  Nacer smiled grimly. Flattery only got you so far, and as far as he was concerned, the wizard had been guilty the second he’d fit him into the plot.

  “We’ll start with the testimony of the guard. Sergeant, can you tell us what it is you saw last night?”

  Todder recounted the events, to the best of his recollections, which weren’t exactly the best. He’d left out all the business about the conn and who had it and where it was left. He also struggled with the actual magic parts. His mind was fuzzy about the floating bit, and he didn’t want to tell them about shooting the crossbow at the wizard.

  “So, this man, this wizard, was doing magic,” Nacer said. “When it is outlawed within the city walls.”

  “I think so.” The sergeant hesitated. “He could have jus' been jumpin’ down from somewhere, I guess.”

  “I thought you said he was floating.”

  “Well, that’s what the boy said he saw. Um, I mean, Corporal Brendon Was-his-name—he saw that part. Gab was already falling out of the sky when I came round.”

  “And where is Corporal Sand?”

  “He’s resting, sir,” the captain interjected from the back. “Deserved a day’s rest, I thought.”

  “But you captain, can attest to the floating?”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, yes, your highness,” the captain’s eyes went to the king, who nodded approvingly.

  “And while I have you, Captain, can you also attest that a damage of mountain trolls made their way into the city last night? Killing several of the guard before wreaking havoc on the city.”

  “A damage?”

  “Yes, a group of trolls—a damage.”

  “Right,” the captain said hesitantly. “I can. A family—that is, a damage—of them, I think, made it past the Wall last night. We’ve got several of the Watch out looking for them now sir.”

  “I wish them luck,” Nacer said, meaning it.

  “And I,” said the king. Sir Robert, who stood behind the king, said nothing.

  “Following this line of thinking,” Nacer said. “We have a wizard on the same side of the city, doing magic. We have trolls, who somehow found their way past a heavily guarded spot along the Wall. Does it not stand to reason that the wizard let them in? That he’s harboring the trolls in some way?”

  “I object!” Gerdy said.

  Gabby put his hand on her wrist, not unkindly. “There will be time for a rebuttal at the end,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” Nacer smiled disconcertedly, “what he said.” He looked back at Sir Robert, who nodded. “At this moment, I’d like to call Antonio the Wonder to the room, whose knowledge of magic far surpasses our own. Tony, as he likes to be called, can give great detail into how such a magical feat can be pulled off. And I think we’ll see, without a shadow of a doubt, that Gabby, here, is guilty of treason, of murder by use of troll, and several other misdemeanors yet to be mentioned.”

  “Sharing magical secrets is against the Alliance,” Gabby whispered in Gerdy’s ear. “He’ll be kicked out—if there’s ever an Alliance again.”

  From the jury box, Epik could make out every word, though the Grand Counselor and his fellow jurors were more interested in what Antonio the Wonder had to say. The king, however, was bored. He yawned, putting his head back against the red velvet cushion of the throne.

  “And there you have it. Magic could very well mean the undoing of this grand city. First, it’s trolls. Who knows what the wizard may summon next—a dragon, ogres, the possibilities are endless.” The Grand Counselor nodded, satisfied with his questions and the other wizard’s testimony. Conjecture was the right word, but not the word Epik had in mind. Lies, he thought. He was positive now; it was all a lie. Gabby was being used as a scapegoat. Evidently, his fellow jurors were failing to see this. He could see it in the eager faces.

  But Gabby seemed to know it; he nodded to Epik.

  The weight of the wand felt heavy in Epik’s back pocket. He could throw it to Gabby now. Maybe the wizard could vanish himself out of here, out of the city.

  “And is it possible,” Nacer continued his line of questioning, “to reveal the last spell a wizard cast from his wand?”

  “It is,” Antonio started, “but I’m afraid it’ll only be apparent to me. May I?” Antonio the Wonder didn’t look much like a wizard at all. His beard was thin and yellow, and he wore a robe the color of a paper sack. He looked more like a simple friar. His long mustard hair was pulled tightly into a bun. Sergeant Todder brandished Gabby’s wand before placing it into Antonio’s eager grip.

  The wizard, if he was one, didn’t do much with it. He bounced it playfully in both hands; he spun it in the air. Then he caught himself.

  “You almost had me,” he said up to the Grand Counselor. “I believe even calling on a wand’s last spell constitutes as magic, yes? I don’t want to go breaking any laws.” He looked at the guards warily.

  “No, go ahead,” the king insisted.

  Antonio continued. He twirled the wand in one hand, moved it up and down once or twice, and then a faint white glow emitted from the tip of the wand to the ooh’s and ah’s from the jury. Epik kept his eyes on Gabby, who rolled his eyes at the show. “I see,” Antonio said to himself, for the sake of the crowd.

  “You see?” Nacer scolded. “What do you see?”

  “The last spell cast was used to send something off course. It’s a rather simple spell, really. I wouldn’t have thought—”

  “Like trolls?” Nacer said plainly. “It could send trolls off course?”

  “Yes… I guess it could,” Antonio said skeptically. He waved the wand further. The same light erupted from the end then pulsed out quickly.

  “Oh stop,” Gabby grumbled. “That flourish on the end, with the light, totally unnecessary your highness. He’s adding it for show. Could we just get on with it?”

  “The spell before the last,” Antonio said, flustered, giving Gabby a look, “also made to send something off course. I’d say, sire, you have your man.”

  “There you have it.” The Grand Counselor was pleased.

  “Darts,” Gertrude whispered in Gabby’s ear. And there it was, Epik knew it was true. He hadn’t done magic the previous night.

  Gabby had.

  “And the trolls,” the king said;
he stood from his seat, addressing the brown cloaked wizard still standing in the middle of the room. The king’s gold crown hung crookedly over his head. “I trust we have no more to fear from them? With the wizard put away, their course won’t be altered again. Will it? If not, I’m sure some of your magic could, what’s the phrase, do the trick?”

  “Sire, I can’t predict—“

  “Can’t, or won’t? We’ll be happy to send you back to your cell.”

  “Sire, but,” Antonio pleaded. “I can’t… Can’t guarantee. Once trolls have a taste for human flesh, who’s to say—”

  “Captain,” Nacer said, “I believe we’ve found you at least one more recruit for tonight.” The Grand Counselor pointed to the jury. “I believe that’s enough evidence for you to deliberate. Come back in five minutes with your verdict.”

  “But what about our rebuttal,” Gerdy said.

  “Oh, right… That.”

  20

  Night Watch

  “He did what?” Jed sent ale sputtering across the bar.

  “Refused a rebuttal,” Epik said. He studied his pint with contempt.

  The bar was darker than usual. The day had turned cloudy with sprinkles of summer rain and thunder. It was empty except for the few of them: Gerdy, Epik, Todder, and Jed. The three of them had, minus Jed, walked back after the trial. They sat at the bar, hugging pints.

  “I said what I could,” Gerdy said sadly. And it was true. But her words had fallen on deaf ears, some quite literally, as Epik found out in deliberations when two of his fellow jurors used ear trumpets. Guilty, all of them had said.

  “So what are they gonna do with him?” Jed asked gruffly.

  “It’s treason,” Todder said plainly. “What’d’ya think?”

  Epik fingered the collar of his shirt.

  “We have to do something—don’t we?”

  “He’s a wizard,” Gerdy said. “He’ll be fine. They always end up on the right side of things.” She was getting back some of her usual spunk. “He’ll probably get an eagle to bail him out or something.”