Continue in reading The City of Wizards
CHAPTER 1 - 2ND PART
Oh dear, I could be dead...
I turned. The rabble was getting thicker, driving me downstairs. Whoever had helped me, he was gone.
I thanked my anonymous savior and raised my head to look for Lokmi. He was some ten stairs ahead.
Good.
We met safely on the ground. Lokmi proposed to go for dinner, but I considered it too offensive for my shrunken stomach.
So we split up. Lokmi went to the nearest tavern leaving me to dawdlehome.
At the central cemetery I passed an old beggar, the only one I had seen so far. I tossed a copper dime into his lap.
“You are a true son of your father,” the beggar replied.
The sentence whirled in my head.
My father was in Averot’h?
He died when I was a kid. I didn't know him well, but I never thought he traveled this far.
Strange...
Before the night fell I stopped by a clothing stall and bought a red shirt with blue stripes and a pair of black trousers. I felt ashamed of my tattered clothing. When I was packing the new garments into my bag, I collided with somebody.
“I beg your pardon,” I apologized swiftly.
The wizard, whom I hit, straightened up, and I stumbled backwards in awe. He was more than a foot taller and ages older than me...
In his eyes red mixed with grey in wrath, and then I recognized Mag’reb with the mouth of some terrible beast that attacked me with a blood curdling scream...
It stopped as suddenly as it started. His eyes calmed and the anger was replaced by a surprise. I examined him quickly. He wore a headband as white as his hair and a scarlet robe with golden hemming decorated by a gold chain with intricate filigree. His ceremonial staff was black and white, and as he held it up in the air, I noticed his palms and fingers were deformed.
“We will meet in the Arena, boy,” he said as he mounted the biggest tephir I had ever seen.
He left without haste, only total silence and chilling wind remained.
Who was he?
But that was a silly question.
I knew the answer already...
♠
The bad luck was not over yet.
Not so far from Quasim's inn, on a lively street with bars and pubs, some roof tiles above my head decided to leave their place.
A female voice shouted: “Watch out, tiles are falling!” just in time for me and some other people to jump aside.
That was close...
I shook my head. Living in the city was bringing new risks.
I must be more careful...
On impulse, I decided to take a detour on my way to Quasim's. I turned from the main street to a narrow lane and pretended to be heading westward, while the inn stood southward. I watched forward, backward, and all around me as I went.
I got paranoid...
Nobody was tracing me.
But I didn't look down, and that was a mistake...
I stumbled over a paving slab and felt a breeze in my hair. A tephir flew just inches over my head!
If I hadn't fallen, I would've been hit by an animal as massive as a horse, but much faster!
I was lying motionless with my face on the pavement, while my thoughts were a complete mess.
“Hey! Are you alright?”
My tongue was not able to answer.
A hand touched the back of my neck.
“Get up!” A woman's voice ordered.
I tried, but the world was spinning around like a kid's carousel. I fell again, this time on my back.
Her gentle fingers ran through my hair and touched my face.
“So he hit you slightly, after all,” she observed. “I should have been quicker... You're bleeding, not much though. You were lucky. Can you get up?”
“No. Everything... whirls... I feel nauseous...”
“It's a concussion. You're going to be okay, ” she pulled out a small bottle. “Drink it. It's an extract from sa’ne.”
The potion was awfully bitter, but the world stopped dancing. Colors and contours were back as well as my sense of touch and sight. I felt cold and pain in the back of my head...
“I'm better now. Thanks.”
“So get up!”
To my surprise, my legs managed that uneasy task on the second try...
Though she remained hidden in the shadows, I realized she was close to my age. Her clothes were ordinary with a simple flower pattern, narrow at the waist with short sleeves, but her hair was extraordinary, a dark flood running down her shoulders in the night breeze.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who struggles to keep you alive all day...”
“Why are you so harsh?”
“You deserve it!”
At that moment I knew whose hand had saved me on the Arena's stairs, and whose voice warned me about falling tiles.
“You saved me twice...”
“No, three times,” she bit her lower lip uneasily, regretting what she had just said.
“Three times?”
She didn't respond.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I owe it to you.”
“But you don't even know me.”
“That doesn't matter.”
“I don't understand.”
“As long as you are alive, we have some hope.”
“I don't understand anything! Who is ‘we’? Who wants me to die? And why?”
She kept silent.
“Why do you care?! I'm nobody!” I realized I was shouting at her.
She glanced around.
“You are certainly not nobody!” She opposed quietly. Her tone changed. There was some warmth in it.
“Look...” she stepped forward, but stopped suddenly staring at my apparel. I had changed my clothes half an hour ago.
“Are you completely mad!?” She pointed her finger at my chest and knees. “Take them off! Now!”
I swallowed. My fingers ran through the drawstring. I took off my shirt, but hesitated when it came to the trousers.
She nodded so I took them off as well.
Now I was just in pants. I wavered.
“That's enough,“ she stopped me quietly. Her anger was gone. She murmured something like “Maybe some other time,” but I was not sure.
“Put on your old clothes,” she added hurriedly.
“What's wrong with the new ones?”
“The colors.”
“What?”
“Colors of your clothes are...”
“Forbidden?”
“No. They are ... easy to identify. They attract undesirable attention.”
“Why?”
“You are Mister ‘Why’, aren't you?”
“I just want an explanation!”
“OK… Once there was a man who was an enemy of the present Warlock and the present Council, and his favorite colors were just like yours. That's all.”
“I see. I'm just a peasant boy, though.”
“No, you are not...”
Warmth again.
“Where are you staying?”
“At Quasim's inn.”
She nodded. “I know where that is. Does anybody else know?”
“I don't think so.”
“Fine. They tried and they failed, and that gives us some time before they come up with another plan. I will send a watchdog to Quasim's, just to be sure, anyway. His name is Yorrel, in case you need help.”
They?
“It shouldn't have happened this way,” she said sadly and turned to leave.
“Hey! Don't go!”
I studied her eyes, chin, and restless hair, the way she moved her hands... I touched her palms with my fingertips. Her fingers wrapped around mine.
And seconds later she was gone...
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Oh dear, I could be dead...
I turned. The rabble was getting thicker, driving me downstairs. Whoever had helped me, he was gone.
I thanked my anonymous savior and raised my head to look for Lokmi. He was some ten stairs ahead.
Good.
We met safely on the ground. Lokmi proposed to go for dinner, but I considered it too offensive for my shrunken stomach.
So we split up. Lokmi went to the nearest tavern leaving me to dawdlehome.
At the central cemetery I passed an old beggar, the only one I had seen so far. I tossed a copper dime into his lap.
“You are a true son of your father,” the beggar replied.
The sentence whirled in my head.
My father was in Averot’h?
He died when I was a kid. I didn't know him well, but I never thought he traveled this far.
Strange...
Before the night fell I stopped by a clothing stall and bought a red shirt with blue stripes and a pair of black trousers. I felt ashamed of my tattered clothing. When I was packing the new garments into my bag, I collided with somebody.
“I beg your pardon,” I apologized swiftly.
The wizard, whom I hit, straightened up, and I stumbled backwards in awe. He was more than a foot taller and ages older than me...
In his eyes red mixed with grey in wrath, and then I recognized Mag’reb with the mouth of some terrible beast that attacked me with a blood curdling scream...
It stopped as suddenly as it started. His eyes calmed and the anger was replaced by a surprise. I examined him quickly. He wore a headband as white as his hair and a scarlet robe with golden hemming decorated by a gold chain with intricate filigree. His ceremonial staff was black and white, and as he held it up in the air, I noticed his palms and fingers were deformed.
“We will meet in the Arena, boy,” he said as he mounted the biggest tephir I had ever seen.
He left without haste, only total silence and chilling wind remained.
Who was he?
But that was a silly question.
I knew the answer already...
♠
The bad luck was not over yet.
Not so far from Quasim's inn, on a lively street with bars and pubs, some roof tiles above my head decided to leave their place.
A female voice shouted: “Watch out, tiles are falling!” just in time for me and some other people to jump aside.
That was close...
I shook my head. Living in the city was bringing new risks.
I must be more careful...
On impulse, I decided to take a detour on my way to Quasim's. I turned from the main street to a narrow lane and pretended to be heading westward, while the inn stood southward. I watched forward, backward, and all around me as I went.
I got paranoid...
Nobody was tracing me.
But I didn't look down, and that was a mistake...
I stumbled over a paving slab and felt a breeze in my hair. A tephir flew just inches over my head!
If I hadn't fallen, I would've been hit by an animal as massive as a horse, but much faster!
I was lying motionless with my face on the pavement, while my thoughts were a complete mess.
“Hey! Are you alright?”
My tongue was not able to answer.
A hand touched the back of my neck.
“Get up!” A woman's voice ordered.
I tried, but the world was spinning around like a kid's carousel. I fell again, this time on my back.
Her gentle fingers ran through my hair and touched my face.
“So he hit you slightly, after all,” she observed. “I should have been quicker... You're bleeding, not much though. You were lucky. Can you get up?”
“No. Everything... whirls... I feel nauseous...”
“It's a concussion. You're going to be okay, ” she pulled out a small bottle. “Drink it. It's an extract from sa’ne.”
The potion was awfully bitter, but the world stopped dancing. Colors and contours were back as well as my sense of touch and sight. I felt cold and pain in the back of my head...
“I'm better now. Thanks.”
“So get up!”
To my surprise, my legs managed that uneasy task on the second try...
Though she remained hidden in the shadows, I realized she was close to my age. Her clothes were ordinary with a simple flower pattern, narrow at the waist with short sleeves, but her hair was extraordinary, a dark flood running down her shoulders in the night breeze.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who struggles to keep you alive all day...”
“Why are you so harsh?”
“You deserve it!”
At that moment I knew whose hand had saved me on the Arena's stairs, and whose voice warned me about falling tiles.
“You saved me twice...”
“No, three times,” she bit her lower lip uneasily, regretting what she had just said.
“Three times?”
She didn't respond.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I owe it to you.”
“But you don't even know me.”
“That doesn't matter.”
“I don't understand.”
“As long as you are alive, we have some hope.”
“I don't understand anything! Who is ‘we’? Who wants me to die? And why?”
She kept silent.
“Why do you care?! I'm nobody!” I realized I was shouting at her.
She glanced around.
“You are certainly not nobody!” She opposed quietly. Her tone changed. There was some warmth in it.
“Look...” she stepped forward, but stopped suddenly staring at my apparel. I had changed my clothes half an hour ago.
“Are you completely mad!?” She pointed her finger at my chest and knees. “Take them off! Now!”
I swallowed. My fingers ran through the drawstring. I took off my shirt, but hesitated when it came to the trousers.
She nodded so I took them off as well.
Now I was just in pants. I wavered.
“That's enough,“ she stopped me quietly. Her anger was gone. She murmured something like “Maybe some other time,” but I was not sure.
“Put on your old clothes,” she added hurriedly.
“What's wrong with the new ones?”
“The colors.”
“What?”
“Colors of your clothes are...”
“Forbidden?”
“No. They are ... easy to identify. They attract undesirable attention.”
“Why?”
“You are Mister ‘Why’, aren't you?”
“I just want an explanation!”
“OK… Once there was a man who was an enemy of the present Warlock and the present Council, and his favorite colors were just like yours. That's all.”
“I see. I'm just a peasant boy, though.”
“No, you are not...”
Warmth again.
“Where are you staying?”
“At Quasim's inn.”
She nodded. “I know where that is. Does anybody else know?”
“I don't think so.”
“Fine. They tried and they failed, and that gives us some time before they come up with another plan. I will send a watchdog to Quasim's, just to be sure, anyway. His name is Yorrel, in case you need help.”
They?
“It shouldn't have happened this way,” she said sadly and turned to leave.
“Hey! Don't go!”
I studied her eyes, chin, and restless hair, the way she moved her hands... I touched her palms with my fingertips. Her fingers wrapped around mine.
And seconds later she was gone...
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