by Pfantazm
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The garrison provided simple clothes for Lennox while his own were being
cleaned and mended. He wore a white peasant's shirt and tan trousers,
both too large for him. A belt kept him decent. They had to have been
borrowed from some knight or other. Lennox had always been slight even
when he wasn't starving himself.
He caught up with his friends in the mess area. A number of similarly dressed soldiers populated the room. These had to be the city guard. Would any of them have a long enough memory to cause him any trouble? "Hey, Lennox! You're looking much better," Thom said as he kicked out a chair for him. "How did you sleep?" "Like a newborn babe," Lennox sighed and smiled. "I haven't felt this rested in months." Sir Bastian was looking over a map scroll. He didn't look up. Obviously, he knew how Lennox had slept. "You must be hungry," Madoc said. "I am. I could use... breakfast?" "Closer to dinner, but no matter," Thom said. Getting up, Madoc suggested, "Why don't I get Lennox a tray, and Sir Bastian can explain to you what he can do for us. I had a chance to find out before you got here." He left for the counter. Sir Bastian folded his hands and began. "I am a mage, as you already know. I can perform a number of different spells that may be of use to us on our journey, not the least of which will be my healing powers and the ferreae manicae, known as the iron handshake. "If I grasp an enemy's hands like this," Sir Bastian said as he grabbed one of Thom's wrists, but the other one got away. He reached again. Thom put his free arm around his back and glared at the mage. Sir Bastian looked at Lennox. "In any case, were I casting the spell for real, I'd need to get both wrists. I use my gift and my enemy is magically put into a cell in Aragon. This way if we catch a number of Marauders at once, we don't have to worry about trooping them all to the jail." He let go of Thom's wrist. "I cannot perform the spell by accident. I need to prepare it, and it's an act of concentration to make anything happen at all. Nothing would go wrong." "You have healing powers as well?" Thom challenged. "Better than an herbalist's?" "Much better. If I'm strong enough at the time I can cure most anything short of death." "Strong enough?" Thom said, somewhat mockingly Lennox thought. "Yes. If I have a man who's had a sword thrust into his stomach, healing him will tire me greatly. Much smaller wounds, like bruises, seem to have little effect on me though." "You must not think much of herbal remedies then." Lennox frowned at Thom. "You have it tail to head, Thom. I prize them very highly. All too often I'm called upon to heal many people at once. I close as many desperate wounds as I can and my herbalism can usually soothe the rest until I've recovered. That way I can help as many as I have ingredients for." Madoc returned with the tray. "Something else I've been wanting to ask," Thom said. "Are we going to have to go chasing after magical trinkets again so you can still perform a spell?" Lennox thanked Sir Madoc and began to eat. "No. That's the difference between a wizard and a mage. A wizard has no magic, or at least very little. He or she can use what is there and make it stronger by reagents, apparatus and ceremony. There is a price to be paid, though. They must keep themselves pure of body to be able to do so. The wizardly spell which does not need a chaste wizard has yet to be found. "A mage's magic flows from within. I can cast without any external preparation. Also, a mage need not be pure of body." "Are you?" Lennox blurted out. `Oh gods,' he thought, `have I truly said that?' Thankfully, Sir Bastian smiled and said to him, "I have known physical love." Turning back to the table, he continued. "We are more rare than wizards. Many people have a small amount of magical energy about them, and for most of them wizardry is the only way to use it. "Wizards, however can share spells. If I tell you what it takes to cast a spell, and you have the talent and the equipment, then you can also cast the spell. This is why most wizards keep spellbooks with them all the time. As a mage, I must find each spell within myself. I've done much in my 35 years--" "Thirty-five?!" Thom said. Lennox, who was eating his pear to keep from saying anything stupid again, nearly choked. "You have the apsect of a one our age, twenty-five," Sir Madoc commented. "Why, thank you," Sir Bastian said and bowed his head. "Mages are often older than they appear. "That is what I have to offer. Sir Madoc, you picked up some information about where Kraid might be while you were in Aragon, did you not?" "I did," Madoc replied. "The falconer at Castle Cal-Dragan also keeps messenger pigeons. He received this message." He took out the slip of parchment and read, "Kraid rumored near Ardmead-to-Spenderton road. Farmer's cart attacked." "Ardmead?" Lennox asked. "Where is that?" "It's on the north shore of the Polyny Sea, a week and a half east past Aragon." "Then we'd best hurry," Madoc said. "Now, hang on," Thom interrupted. "We ourselves saw them, what, three weeks ago just nearby. Yes, they had to run and hide, but to Ardmead?! There's naught there but farmland. And nowhere to hide. They did not have to run that far to get away from us. They're more likely to be back in the forests where we left them." "You don't believe the message?" Sir Madoc asked. "I don't. I'll lay odds there was a reward." "What?!" Sir Bastian asked. "I said, I'll lay you odds that there was a reward for giving the information. I'm more willing to think someone lied to you and took your money than that Kraid is filching pumpkins in Spenderton." Sir Bastian seemed to have regained his composure from his odd outburst a moment ago. Thom still looked at him strangely, but the mage ignored him. "What do you think, Lennox?" he asked. "You must know their habits better than anyone here." "If Kraid really is up that way, the only thing he'd find worth stealing would be horses. Addax handles the horses, and he finds it much easier to come by them in the city." "What about food?" Sir Bastian suggested. "No, they raid a market village and get supplies for a few months, then supplement it with game from the forest. There's no reason for them to go all that way." "So, it looks like this is useless," Sir Madoc said, frowning at the slip. "And we're stuck with nowhere to start looking, unless you can suggest something, Lennox?" Sir Bastian looked to him with those haunting grey eyes. Lennox desperately began to think. There had to be something, some job they pulled every so often or regularly or.... "What day is it?" "It is but one week to the equinox," Sir Bastian said, not blinking. The equinox. What were they doing a year or so ago? "Gold shipment!" The knights raised their eyebrows. "About this time last year there was a heavily armed coach that carried a large chest of gold through the Greypoints. The Marauders attacked and got it all. We lost Taylor and Jules that day." "And how many knights?" Sir Bastian asked. "I don't know. I wasn't there," he replied meekly. "So is there another shipment heading through?" Thom asked. Sir Madoc shrugged. "We should find out," Sir Bastian said. "I can send a note to Jerome. If anyone knows, they'll know at Cal-Dragan," Madoc said. "I have my methods," the mage said enigmatically, "faster than the wing. We'll know one way or the other today. I need quiet, though. I'll retire to my room while I make my inquiries. I may be a while. Please knock before you enter, Lennox." He nodded at his tablemates and made his way back to the barracks. "What do you think?" Thom asked when Sir Bastian was around the corner. "He's a good man," Sir Madoc said. "I'll be grateful to have him along." "You didn't see him. He tried to get both my wrists while you were gone." "I don't think he'd make such a snap judgment as that. He only knows you from that brief talk last night." "He's hiding something, Madoc. He's not telling us the whole of why he's here." "Lennox, who do you think is right? Do you think he's out to get us?" The redhead thought for a brief moment and said, "Not at all. Sir Bastian was only showing me what the ferreae manicae looked like." Thom gave Lennox a look. "Hunh. What do you think of him otherwise?" Lennox smiled. "He was very kind to me last night, helping me sleep and saving me food. And have you seen his eyes?" "Oh, yes," said Thom. "I have. It sounds like you like him." "You are the only one of us who seems not to," Madoc said. "No, but Lennox likes him." The redhead saw Thom's hand move under the table in his partner's direction. Madoc put his hand on Thom's and grinned at Lennox. "Is this so?" Lennox tried not to grin and tried hard to speak. The dark knight spoke first. "You may be disappointed. I'm not sure he'll be... accepting." "I know, but I'd still rather dream about him than about Kraid."
"So what can we do?" Madoc asked. "Follow it?" "Perhaps that's not wise," Sir Bastian said. "Kraid and his men know the two of you. They might be put off if they saw you." "Why is that?" Thom asked. "They know Madoc is a knight and they know I rescued him. To see us on the caravan would surprise him, but he might just think the gods are giving him his revenge. "The only reason I can see that Kraid might balk is if he sees Lennox. So let's start there. Lennox, are you joining us as we go, or will you stay here when we leave?" Lennox looked around at the three knights. His eyes fixed on those of Sir Bastian. Could he let the mage go off and leave him here? Would Sir Bastian care one way or the other? "I'll - I'll come with you." Sir Bastian smiled. "Good," Thom said, grinning. "Now, if we are to try to catch the coach that has the gold, we'll want Lennox hidden somehow." He paused to think. "Sir Bastian has a mount," Madoc said. "That's four riders for three horses. Two must share. Could Lennox share with someone, and that horse hang back? When the two leaders catch the coach, they ensure the Marauders aren't attacking and signal the other two that it's safe." "If it is not safe," Sir Bastian reasoned, "then we divide our forces. The third rider would either stay out of the fray, or he would abandon Lennox on the road to join the battle." "I don't like the sounds of that," said Lennox. "Nor I," Thom agreed. "Let me think a moment. We can't leave him behind anywhere. Too close and he may be spotted. Too far, and we have to go back to fetch him and there may not be time." He closed his eyes. The other three waited. "We...," Thom said at last, "need... to keep Lennox inside the coach." "With the gold?" Sir Bastian said. "Instead of the gold."
The gold would sit at Fairhaven until Thom, Madoc, Sir Bastian and Lennox were through with the official coach. Lennox would hide inside and not fight unless necessary. The three knights would ride escort, accompanied by guards from the original expedition as required. The convoy would look normal. They did catch the shipment just as it was about to leave, and after much shouting, Thom got his way. Not wanting to tarry any longer, they installed Lennox inside one of the seats by lifting the cushions. The only thing they lacked was a false chest to simulate the gold, but there was no time. Off they went. The trip up the mountains took days, Lennox learned. There was no way to know when or where Kraid would strike. He couldn't say for certain Kraid would try for the gold. Lennox was sure he'd be in trouble if he didn't. At night, Lennox was allowed out of the seat to stretch, but not out of the coach. The others kept him company and brought food. During the third day, the coach suddenly stopped. Lennox tried to see out of the gaps in the planking of the undercarriage, but all he could see was an axle and the road. There was shouting. Then suddenly screaming. Lennox could hear fighting outside. Was it Kraid, or some other band of highwaymen? Lennox wanted very much to look, but fear kept him frozen in his place. The coach lurched as someone tried to climb inside. There was a sharp cry and the coach bounced back the other way. Lennox was trembling. This was it, the horrific nightmare that had kept him too scared to sleep for months at a time, even before he had escaped. The tiny compartment that concealed him was as much a prison as it was protection. He found it harder to breathe. Once more the coach tilted to the side. He heard the door open. Someone had broken through the defenses. He must realize the gold's not here. He's going to look for it, and there are none too many places to look. Lennox's body reeked of sweat. The man who would kill him was inside the carraige. How could he not be aware of the thief's presence? His heart was beating loud enough to give him away. Soon enough the lid would open. He heard the other cushioned seat get lifted first. What could he do? One of the Marauders would be here in seconds. Daylight streamed into the compartment. Lennox balled a fist and lashed out. The man dropped the seat and grabbed at his face. Lennox leapt up and pushed the man out the door. He fell into Sir Bastian's waiting arms... and disappeared. The redhead looked up and locked eyes with Addax. He yanked the coach door shut. Oh, gods! He was panicking. It is them and they've seen me. Please let them catch Addax. Oh gods oh gods.... He had to hide. They'd find him in the seat again. If he laid on the floor? Someone could go underneath and ram a sword up between the boards.... He was dead. Ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgodsohgodsohgods.... They found him curled up in a ball on the other seat and shaking uncontrollably.
Lennox. This is Bastian. Thom and Sir Madoc are here. The others have gone. They have either been captured or they have fled. You are safe. You are safe. Please come back to us. We need you here. Lennox. Please.
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