TALES OF OLDE GEND

The Blue Wizard

A Tale of Korvus

By J.D. Canell

PROLOGUE:

The young man knelt ignoring the ache in his knees from the hard marble floor.

His starched silver and white kimono stood out like burnished steel amidst the garish foppery of the governor’s court.

Behind him, equally statuesque knelt his four body guards, seeming motionless, but attuned to every nuance of the room, each entrusted with the life of this youth.

  

Daekyz Pyxu, Governor of Ilos entered, surrounded by a bevy of courtiers in a rainbow of poor quality silks and satins.

He ascended the dias and sat, deigning to notice the visitors who as one had bowed deeply, touching their heads to the floor.

Rising, after he gave the gaijin what honor he could, the youth spoke.

 “Greetings esteemed governor, I am Shintaro Aemon, my father, Shintaro Jozen, Daimyo of Kisoriku, Tsurayama and Kitashi sends you greetings and a small token of friendship”.

At a signal from him, two of his men picked up an ornate lacquered chest and set it at the governor’s feet then backed away, bowing.

Suspecting what was inside the chest, Daekyz smiled.

 “I’m pleased to accept your father’s ‘gift’, but I’m told this isn’t the only reason for your   

  visit to my city”.

  “This is so. I am also here on a personal mission. I search for the...the”,

He turned to one of his men and said something guttural.  The man briskly replied.

  “Ah, assassin. Yes, an assassin who I’ve tracked to this city.  This person murdered 

   both my mother and sister and I will not let him escape again”.

  “A personal vendetta, I don’t know if I can allow that”.

  “A man’s fate leads him where it will”.

  “Too true, too true. Fine, young Shintaro, I shall let you search, but there had better be 

   no slaying of my people whilst this goes on, any such action would be considered 

   murder and is punishable by death”.

 The samurai bowed. “It is the same in my land, lord.  You shall be obeyed in this”.

- Chapter One -

Kirinso Koino moved gracefully through the alley which led to Market street.  As usual, the street was swarming with merchants and buyers, hagglers and shills and of course sprinkled with cutpurses, pick pockets and prostitutes.  

She wormed her way to a nearby side street and onto Iron lane where she was greeted by the din of armorer, sword smiths and varied metalworkers plying their trade. Entering a small grubby stall, a bit back from the rest she paused to breath a bit.

  “Morning Koi’, came a muffled voice from the back. a second later the dirty leather curtain was brushed aside by a middle aged man, small but taut with muscle.  She liked the tilt of his eyes and his crooked nose reminded her of her father.  She smiled past a lump in her throat and said;

  “Good morning Tanaka-san”, they bowed, liking each other.

  “Miko-san has some tea made, would you like some”?

  “That would be nice, thank you”.

  “It’s going to be a hot one today”. he replied disappearing back behind the filthy curtain.  There was the clatter of porcelain and a curse as he burned his hand on the kettle.

  “Here, let me do it you great fool”! a shrunken old woman emerged bearing a tray with a trio of porcelain cups and a partially glazed teapot. a thread of steam escaped from the spout as she set the tray down.

The old woman sat heavily with a great sigh.  

  “Ah Koi-san, to be as young as you”.

  “Miko-san, you aren’t so old as that”.

  “It’s this place, I miss my little house in Yojino, but what the master 

    speaks, we can only obey, neh”?

  “So true, our duty is to him first”.

The curtain swished aside and Tanaka joined them, drying his hands on a stained and ragged towel.

  “It’s going to be a hot one today”, he muttered.

  “Baka! you keep saying that!  We know it’s going to be hot, but your    

   constant jabbering just makes it worse”!

Tanaka bobbed his head, grimaced and slurped his tea.

Koino daintily sipped hers, eyes closed, ears closed to the harping of the old woman to her son-in-law, and remembered a morning far away when she and master Tsurai sat and sipped tea at dawn, watching the sun slowly rise above the horizon. For her it was glorious, the loveliest moment of her life, and she thanked her mentor with tears in her eyes, bowing deeply before her.

  “When I die”, she thought, “I hope it’s at dawn.”

After the tea was gone and the small foods were finished Miko-san bowed and excused herself. Koino quietly sat, admiring the artfully piled coals in the nearby forge.

  “I have what you requested.” Tanaka said, producing a small square of folded silk tied with a thin ribbon.

She took it from him, bowing and touching it to her forehead. Through the silk she could feel the star shaped metal shuriken.

  “Thank you Tanaka-san.  I lack the resources and time to make them, and  I must be discreet.”

  “I had a visiter yesterday, a young samurai from Kisoriku.  He is a guest of the Governor. You are being hunted.”

  “It was only a matter of time before the Red Feather clan sent someone after me.”

  “I sharpened his katana, it is a Tsumara Ginzo blade.” Tanaka replied

  “Tsumara Ginzo doesn’t sell his swords to just anyone, this man is dangerous.” Kiono tucked the silk wrapped package into her clothes.

  “It seems I must prepare myself.  I thank you for your gifts and your help.”  

  “Your friendship and kindness is more than enough for my...”

As one they whirled as the figure crashed through the ceiling. Tanaka rolled left, Koino to the right; both sprang to their feet, swords flashing.

Parrying madly the man fended them both off, a sharp kick sent Tanaka reeling back against the forge, he suppressed a scream as the skin on his right shoulder and arm sizzled against hot metal.

The samurai focused on Koino, forcing her back against the wall with a strong attack, almost too swift for her to fend off.

She managed to slip to the left and out into the street.  People screamed and fled as the two flung themselves together with a clash of ringing steel.

Koino forced him backwards with a series of sharp blows, but he turned the tide and advanced on her. A wounded Tanaka emerged from the wreckage of his forge and threw himself at the samurai with a scream.

The samurai, ducked under Tanaka’s blade and with a sharp thrust, impaled the blacksmith; he then wrenched the blade free, spun to meet Koino’s attack, but she was gone.

Disgusted, he swung the sword in a tight arc to shake the blood off it, slid it into the scabbard and stalked down the street.  The crowd parted for him, several fleeing blindly from his fierce countenance.

From out of the shadows came Koino followed closely by Miko-san.  They cradled him as he gasped and bled.

  “Tanaka-san, your bravery will be remembered by our clan forever.  I am deeply in your debt.”

  “The honor is mine.  I owe...I owe...” his head sagged to one side.

Miko-san began to wail.

Keeping to the main streets, Koino buried herself in the crowd.  Although not entirely safe, she knew better than to keep to the shadows where her foe would be expecting her to hide.

Saddened by Tanaka’s death, she let the crowd jostle her about until she came to rest in a doorway across from the Agitor’s temple.  Over the ceaseless murmur of the crowd came the pleadings and moanings of people locked in hanging cages in the open courtyard.  A few dirty children were laughing and throwing stones at them, but they scampered off when a pair of acolytes emerged struggling with an ornately decorated thick wooden box.

Setting it down they stepped back as an Agitor emerged from the temple and stepped up on it.  He cleared his throat and announced, reading from a scroll;

  “Upon the morrow, at the third hour past dawn there will be an execution by hanging of six criminals and one by burning. They are charged with being offenders of the Mind and abominations before Mitra and thus are worthy of our distrust and are full of sin and vileness.”

He stepped down and handed the scroll to one of the acolytes who dutifully tacked it up on a notice board outside the temple.

Koino was about to move on when she spotted a familiar figure in one of the cages, tugging at a tight fitting metal band around his head.

 “Nilo.” His red rimmed gaze met hers, and for an instant she felt justified in her dislike of him.  Of course his kind deserved to die, people able to peek inside your mind, perform who knows what kind of things with their brains that normal people couldn’t do, it was disgusting.

But he was Nilo, they needed him. She had to find Korvus quickly.

z 

Korvus hated this place, it always stunk of lousy beer and piss.  At a corner table near what could hardly be called a stage several miners were smoking some rank pipe tobacco that was working on making him gag.  He stopped the greasy waitress/whore and asked for another beer.  He tossed her a a few coppers when the warm tankard arrived, went to take a sip and saw a dead roach bob to the surface.  He just poured the damned thing on the floor.

  “Where in the seven hells is this guy?”, he thought, eyeballing a potential pickpocket who was staggering about pretending to be more drunk than he was.

A tap on his shoulder  revealed a nondescript man in a grey-brown hooded robe.

  “What kept you.”

The answer was drowned out by the hooting and bellowing of the miners as the first stripper  stumbled onto the stage.

  “What?” Korvus asked again.

  “Agitors are very active lately, rounding up unsavory folk.”

  “Haven’t gotten to you yet, I see.”

  “Nor you either.  Do you have it?”

  “I do.”

  “Shall we...?”

  “Not in here, meet me out back in ten minutes. Use a different door.”

Korvus slid off his barstool, shoved the not-really-drunken thief away from him and swiftly checked his pockets and belt pouches as he moved on.

The air seemed sweet and a freshening wind blew out of the north.  Somewhere a crow squawked before it settled down for the night.  Korvus walked a short ways beside a fence, stopped and undid his cod piece so he could add to the aroma of the place.  There was a footstep behind him.

  “Be with you in a minute.” he said shaking himself.  There was a rush of air and a sharp crack against the back of his head then sudden darkness.

  “I’m floating.” Korvus thought.  Looking around at blurred colors and shapes. Gradually things became clearer. He was floating near the ceiling, below him rested a round pedestal in a narrow room.  A long table stood to one side cluttered with retorts, glass bottles, bubbling pots and other sorcerous bric-a-brac, opposite that was a stone altar of sorts carved of crude stone, atop which was a carved statue of a tree, coiled about the base was a dragon and from it’s branches peeked a squirrel and several deer.

The pedestal kept his attention, it held a white crystal orb the size of a large apple shot through with a web of of red, hair thick occlusions and in the center a disk of deep piercing blue, it hovered just above the pedestal, slowly rotating.

A figure appeared in the doorway; Korvus was shocked to see it was him.  The orb whirled suddenly and the blue disc fixed on him.

He watched his hands shakily reach for the orb, there was a flash of blue light and a figure of an old one-eyed man in a shabby blue robe appeared.

There came the cry of wolves and the cawing of ravens and the apparition vanished.  Korvus knew then that he had to go north, to Freormearc.

With that thought there came a sensation of falling, a sudden blaze of pain at the back of his skull and someone shaking his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to see the hooded man.

  “Dammit! I should’ve known better than to meet you here.” the envoy muttered.

 Korvus felt about him, patting rapidly.

  “Shit!  Shit, shit, shit!!”

  “What’s the matter, loose your gold?”

  “Worse, the pouch with the orb, it’s gone.”

  “What?”

  “Someone hit me over the head and stole it!”

  “That quick? I practically followed you out here.
  “They must’ve been waiting.  Whoever it was took everything.”

  “Great! Fantastic!   I told my patron not to trust you, a mewling little street thief like you!  Gutter filth, not fit for the dungeons!  I’ll have you hanging upside down for this!”

In the back of his mind Korvus caught a flash of horses riding hard and a mile marker.

  “Whoever took it is a-horse riding hard for the crossroads outside the city.  If I hurry I can catch them.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I...I’m not sure, I just have a gut feeling about it, it’s like...I don’t know, I just...know.”

  “I’ll give you one week to get it back or my patron will have you roasting over a slow fire for a very long time!”

With a swirl of robes, he stormed off, leaving Korvus sitting against the fence, his hand in puddle, too late he realized what it was a puddle of.

z

  “I’ll give you a great deal,” the woman thought.

  “How good?” Nilo returned aloud.

  “For you, 40 eagles, satisfaction guaranteed.”  Nilo found it a bit disconcerting that her lips never moved yet he ‘heard’ her voice clearly in his mind.

She slid a small silver tray with a pyramid of black powder centered on it, perhaps two inches high.

  “Try a taste, tell me what you think.”

He cast a glance around the shabby rented room. From below could be heard the din of the local bar crowd. Against the far wall was a bed, more cot than actual bed with a greasy tattered curtain dragged across the window.

He pulled a pouch off of his belt and from it took a battered velvet lined wooden box. Inside nestled a well worn crystal pipe.  Nilo placed a few pinches of the powder in it and using a nearby candle lit up, inhaled and eased back in the creaking old chair.  Exhaling, his eyes half closed as he felt the lotus touch his soul.

  “You like it?”

  “Sublime.” he smiled, his mind at once expanded and yet clouded by the drug.

  “Half of an ounce for forty golden eagles, a full ounce for sixty-five.”

  “Of this?  This is some of the best I’ve had in a while. I’ll...someone’s coming!”

They leapt to their feet as the door burst in, the doorway bristling with city watchmen and behind them an Agitor with a copper headband.

Both Psions knew, he was a special Agitor, a Psion like themselves trained from youth to hunt down fellow Psions for the Temple to enslave, and usually kill.

  “Take them,” he said, and squinted. At once the woman screamed, clutched her head and collapsed, Nilo found himself staggering about, the room whirled dizzily and he couldn’t keep his feet.  They were easily trussed and an iron band with a single crystal bound about their foreheads.

  “I arrest you in the name of Mythrys the benevolent for the crimes of drug possession with the intent to use, to sell and for Crimes of the Mind.

You are to be taken to the Temple of Mythrys and there will be judged according to the Agitor Law.  Take them away.”

Nilo came to lying on a rough cot. He rose, head swimming, and slowly looked around.

He was in a small stone cell with a tiny slit window through which sunlight beamed.  His head ached and when he touched it, his hand was shocked  and he screamed, the pain in his skull increased, rolling off the cot in anguish he fell to the floor and curled in a ball, the band around his head sizzled and sparked.

  “Lie still, the pain will go away.” called a voice.

Nilo fought to not clutch his frying head.

  “It’s burning me!” he shrieked.

  “It’ll stop if you leave it alone, lie still!”

Whimpering, eyes clenched and tearing at his anguish, Nilo did his best to stay still.  Soon the pain decreased, the sizzling and sparking stopped and his headache began to lessen.

  “By the gods, what hellish device is this?!”

  “It’s a nullifier, it blocks all psionic activity and brings terrible pain on it’s wearer.”

  “No kidding.” Nilo slowly sat up.

  “My name is Nilo, who are you?”

  “Sarafina of Delran.” came the contralto voice from the cell across from his.

  “Delran? That’s hundreds of miles away, what are you doing in Xelah-Arn?”

He glanced across the hall and saw a slim brown haired girl.

  “My father was a merchant and we traveled here to make a better life for ourselves.  Unfortunetly only a short time after we arrived we were robbed. Men to whom my father owed money to came and my father was killed.  My mother and I were sold into slavery.”