Mage Quest Page 7

  “Maybe you should,” said Joachim, but looking at me rather than her.

  “You never did,” she said softly.

  “But you never had any intention of becoming a priest,” he said with a smile, scrambling to his feet, “or, in your case, a nun.”

  As he and I walked back toward the others, I wondered uneasily if Arnulf knew all the time what his wife was doing.

  If he meant harm to us, he certainly treated us well in the meantime. Our horses were still not ready at the end of the day, but the first of our clothes came back clean from the laundry. Ascelin went white when we returned to our rooms and found our armor and weapons gone, but Arnulf’s constable reassured him that they had just been taken away to have the rust polished off and the edges sharpened. Even our boots were gone to be resoled.

  After another luxurious meal, Arnulf invited us into his study while Claudia supervised preparing the children for bed. Candlelight gleamed on polished wood and brass. I scanned the shelves quickly, looking for books of magic, but saw mostly account books, books of history and geography, and a little literature. A bright fire took the chill from the spring evening.

  “Joachim tells me you’re wondering why I asked him to come home now after all these years,” said Arnulf, stretching out his long legs. In the candlelight, the brothers looked more alike than ever. “I hadn’t meant to worry the rest of you with this, but maybe I could use your help.”

  “What’s disappearing into thin air?” asked Ascelin intensely. He had gotten this from me.

  “Wait, wait,” said Arnulf cheerfully. At least he and Joachim sounded different. “If I’m going to tell you about this, I’d better start at the beginning.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Arnulf was more than willing to answer. He had in fact, I thought, brought us to his study specifically to tell us. I wondered abruptly if anything he said was his real concern, or if he had created a story to distract us from something else.

  “It’s believed,” began Arnulf, “and this, I must stress, is only a rumor, that King Solomon’s Pearl has been found again.”

  IV

  If the story was created for our benefit, at least the Pearl had not been, for King Haimeric too seemed to have heard of it. “But I didn’t think it could be found,” the king said slowly. “I’d always heard that it had been hidden inside a golden box, inside a sealed amphora, inside a locked cabinet, inside a sunken ship, in the deepest rift of the Outer Sea.”

  “That’s right,” said Arnulf, “hidden by the Ifriti a thousand years ago. But if an Ifrit had hidden it in the sea, he might be able to find it again. And the story I have heard is that it is now somewhere in the East, and that someone has located its hiding-place.”

  “And what is this Pearl?” asked Hugo.

  “Since no one has seen it for a thousand years,” said Arnulf slowly, “we have only story and legend. But the legend is that it is an enormous, flawless black pearl, permeated from its creation with the forces that shaped the earth, and which the Queen of Sheba brought to King Solomon as a wedding gift. Something of such perfection, something of such historical significance, would always be beyond price.

  “But there is more. King Solomon, it is said, imbued this Pearl with all his wisdom and magic. It gives power to those who hold it, so that they will always prosper, that their setbacks will be only temporary, and they will in the end find their hearts’ desire.”

  The room was silent for a moment except for the crackling of the fire. The candle flames were reflected in the absolute black of the windows.

  “But if it’s so priceless,” said Hugo at last, “why doesn’t the royal Son of David still have it?”

  “The Captivity of Babylon,” said Joachim. I wondered how much of this he had already heard.

  Arnulf nodded. “Exactly. The Sons of David after Solomon long had the Pearl, but when their city was sacked and the Children of Abraham were taken as slaves to Babylon, the Pearl was lost to them.”

  “This doesn’t sound like a very reliable magical object to me,” I said, “if it let them all be enslaved.”

  “It’s years since I heard about it,” said King Haimeric slowly. “But my impression was that the Pearl was stolen from the royal treasury, and that Babylon attacked shortly thereafter.”

  “The Bible tells us,” commented Joachim, “that King Zedekiah had broken his covenant with the Lord.”

  “Others have also suggested,” said Arnulf, “that the Pearl would only aid its owner as long as that owner acted from the purest of motives. We have so little information. But the story one hears most often is that this flawless pearl did have a flaw. It would always aid the people who held it, sometimes for a year, sometimes for five centuries. But sooner or later its powers would fail, only to be revived in the hands of someone new.”

  I leaned back in my chair and shivered in spite of the fire’s warmth. Something out of the old magic, created long, long before modern wizardry had begun to shape and channel the forces of magic with reliable and reproducible spells, something carrying both enormous powers and a fatal flaw …

  “Solomon himself,” Arnulf continued, “in all his wisdom, is said to have locked up the Pearl late in his life and refused to touch it again. For centuries after it was first stolen, the story goes, it kept appearing and disappearing around the East. From Babylon, it was taken deep into the inner desert by nomads. It was stolen and stolen again a hundred times, and every time it was stolen its flaw was revealed sooner. For a century, the governor of the imperial city of Xantium held it, and his city flourished beyond all others in power and in wealth. But then it was lost again, until it appeared again in the hands of the Prophet’s nephew—brought to him, I have heard, by an Ifrit. And the People of the Prophet flourished in might, and the caliphs held the Pearl for two hundred years.

  “But after two centuries, either the Pearl began again to reveal its flaw, or the very desire for its power drove men mad, for fratricidal wars broke out among all the People of the Prophet. And it was then that the last of the caliphs renounced both its power and its perils, by sending the Ifriti to hide it deep in the sea.”

  Arnulf fell silent. For several minutes we thought our own thoughts, until a log settled in the fireplace with a sharp crack. I looked toward Ascelin. I was still wondering if any of the magic I knew would be at all useful, but he looked as though he had reached some sort of decision.

  But Hugo spoke first. “But what is the connection of the Pearl with you, and Father Joachim, and things disappearing into thin air?”

  Arnulf looked uncomfortable. I wondered if what he was about to tell us was a lie. “It’s the caravans,” he said after a brief pause, “not just mine, but many of the luxury merchants’. Stories are running wild throughout the East that whoever found the Black Pearl is trying to smuggle it into the western kingdoms. All of us therefore have had to put on extra guards.”

  The story was not just running through the East, I thought. It had already reached the lord of the red sandstone castle.

  “We could understand it if our caravans were just being attacked by bandits—bandits have been a feature of the luxury trade as long as it has existed. Silks, spices, saints’ relics from Xantium—we all have to deal with them. Why, just last fall, when I wasn’t more than a week’s ride from here, I myself was set upon by bandits, though the knights with me fought them off successfully.

  “But my caravans, at any rate, haven’t merely been attacked. I’ve had repeated messages from my agents in the East, and there seems no obvious answer. Several of my caravans, four of them as of last month, have simply disappeared.”

  He paused again, and when he continued it was so quietly we had to lean forward to hear him. “Men and animals were left standing, but the wagons and goods were gone. They said there was an abrupt rush of air, and then my caravans were gone without a scrap remaining. Only,” and his voice dropped even lower, “only there was always a sign dug into the hard sand and stone of the road
. The sign of the cross.”

  “Ifriti,” said Ascelin into the ensuing silence.

  Arnulf shook his head. “I don’t think so. Ifriti could certainly carry off a caravan without a trace, but they would not mark where they had been with a Christian cross. I’m not sure the Ifriti recognize the power of God at all, and if so they probably follow the Prophet. That’s why,” flicking his eyes toward Joachim, “I’d hoped my brother the priest would have some ideas.”

  None of us had any ideas—or at any rate any ideas we wanted to tell Arnulf. But Ascelin, back in our chambers later that evening, seemed convinced he knew what had happened.

  “He’s got Solomon’s Pearl here in this house,” he said, low and intense. We were all gathered together in his room—all of us except, again, Joachim.

  “Can you sense it, Wizard?” asked King Haimeric.

  I tried for a moment, then shook my head. “I don’t find any indication of a magical object here in the house, but that might not mean anything. Any natural object with a spell attached to it is still a natural object, and the spell itself is hard to recognize unless it’s actually active.”

  “If he’s got it,” said Dominic, who had been very quiet all evening, “then he’s hoping to get the might of the Church to help him keep it.”

  Ascelin nodded, a quick motion with his chin. “That’s why they suddenly asked back the brother they virtually threw out all those years before.”

  “Wait a minute,” I protested. “I don’t think they threw him out. They may have quarreled over business ethics, but Joachim decided himself he wanted to be a priest. He and his brother write each other fairly regularly, even if he hasn’t been here since he went off to seminary.”

  “They disagreed on more than the ethics of the luxury trade,” said the king slowly, “but our chaplain still left of his own will.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. Joachim had still not said anything to me to explain his long absence from home.

  “It’s the Lady Claudia, of course,” said the king with a smile. “Didn’t any of the rest of you notice it?”

  I looked at him in amazement. I had certainly not mentioned finding her singing to the chaplain.

  “Notice what?” asked Dominic.

  The king looked at him affectionately. “You’ve lived almost all your life in the royal castle of Yurt, since you were four years old, and I don’t think you ever noticed anything there either.”

  “What are you talking about, sire?” said the royal nephew, just avoiding sounding rude.

  “Well, I’ve never told the queen either,” said the king with a distant look, “and I must say it hasn’t been much on my mind in the years since I married her, but you might as well know. Dominic, I spent most of my life in love with your mother.”

  This was the same shock to Dominic it was to everyone else. “But— She never suggested—”

  “I don’t think she ever knew,” said Haimeric with a reminiscent smile. “It won’t hurt to tell you now. But didn’t you ever wonder why the king of Yurt grew to be an old man without marrying?”

  “I was your heir,” said Dominic warily, as though awaiting much worse revelations.

  “Of course, and a good heir you were. You were my own dear brother’s boy, as well as hers, and I loved you as though you were my own. But I couldn’t bear to marry anyone else while your mother was still alive. After your father was killed fighting in the eastern kingdoms—saying he had to make his own fortune, which I never have understood, when he knew he always had a home in Yurt—and you and she came to live in the royal castle, I couldn’t think of loving someone else. Your father sent all those jewels back to Yurt when he died, of course, but all she wanted was him.”

  He paused briefly and smiled. “I’m not surprised at that. I’m sure you’ve heard since you were little, Dominic, about your father: that he was the handsomest man in three kingdoms, the bravest warrior, the staunchest friend. All of it’s true.”

  He then hesitated again, while Dominic uneasily twisted the ruby ring on his finger. “You probably didn’t realize this,” King Haimeric went on, “but your mother was a lovely woman. Not as beautiful as the queen, of course, but lovely and vibrant all the same. Even after she died, I don’t think I would have considered marrying if I hadn’t met the queen.”

  And I thought I had known my king. I felt as though a piece of ordinary flooring had been pulled up to reveal a whole busy world beneath. But I felt reticent to ask him more, and, if we were all in danger from King Solomon’s Pearl, we didn’t have time. “What does this have to do with Arnulf and his caravans?”

  “It explains,” said the king, with the same reminiscent look, “that Ascelin and his hunting instincts may be picking up something quite different from imminent peril. He may only be picking up unrequited love.”

  I felt a sudden conviction that King Haimeric had known all along that I was in love with the queen. But if so he had never said anything, and I was certainly not going to be the first to mention it. She at any rate, I was quite sure, had never had any idea.

  “You’re good friends with the chaplain, Wizard,” the king said. “Hasn’t he ever mentioned the Lady Claudia to you?”

  “Not even once,” I said slowly. “But— But I think you may have it backwards. He didn’t go into the seminary loving her, and he didn’t come back here still in love with her. If anything, she was in love with him.”

  “Come on,” said Ascelin impatiently. “It doesn’t matter who’s in love with whom.” Quite a comment, I thought, for someone who missed his own wife so badly. “We have to plan how to get away from here before we’re seized by the fatal spell of the Pearl.”

  “Wait a minute,” interrupted Hugo. “I doubt he has it here. But don’t you think this Pearl must have something to do with the disappearance of my father?”

  “It must,” I said, thinking rapidly. “Sir Hugo and all his party vanished abruptly, as abruptly as those caravans. Unless they were all killed by bandits—and I shouldn’t think they would be, so close to the Holy Land, and accompanied by a competent wizard—this sounds like the same sort of disappearance. Somebody in the East has mastered an Ifrit, and is using it to capture anyone, or anything, he thinks may have the Black Pearl.”

  “So if Arnulf does have the Pearl here already,” said Hugo, “no one else realizes it. And whoever’s got the Ifrit is continuing to look for it.”

  “How do you master an Ifrit, Wizard?” asked Dominic.

  I was certainly not the person to ask, but I didn’t want to say so. “It’s very hard,” I said, “and requires spells very unlike anything we normally use in the western kingdoms.” Fortunately Dominic did not press me for details.

  “Whether Arnulf already has the Pearl here and wants us to help him keep it,” put in the king, “or whether he, like probably every other merchant in the East, is wondering who does have it and how he can stop his caravans from being attacked in the meantime, he certainly wants us as his friends. I don’t think we need fear him, Ascelin.”

  The tall prince looked dubious but nodded. “I still think we should stay watchful.”

  We all jumped when a sharp rap came on the door, and it opened to reveal Arnulf and Joachim.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were all set for the evening,” said the lord of the manor with a smile. “All having a last bedtime conversation, eh?” He must have suspected we were discussing his affairs, but he was too polite to say so. He did have more tact, I thought, than the chaplain—probably good for business. “There’s a bell in the hall you can ring if you need anything. Sleep well!”

  As the brothers left again, I wondered, as I had this afternoon, if Arnulf had sent his wife to attempt to seduce Joachim. So far I didn’t think it was working, but I very much wanted to know why he had.

  V

  In the morning, while Ascelin went to the stables to see if he could speed up the reshoeing of our horses, I went in search of the chaplain. I found him near the garden, pl
aying volleyball with Arnulf’s children.

  I had never seen Joachim play volleyball before; for that matter, though he often talked with Prince Paul and Gwennie on topics beyond their lessons and took them on walks through the countryside, I couldn’t recall him doing anything I would have called playing. But now he and his niece were matched against the two boys, using a low, child-sized net over which he towered.

  “All right, we’re all tied evenly,” he said to them, laughing, when I came up. He straightened out his vestments. “Let’s stop there and give your uncle a chance to catch his breath. Yes, yes, we can play again this afternoon.”

  As he and I walked into the garden and sat down on the bench where Claudia had sat playing the lute the afternoon before, he said, “I’m glad we were able to come. I wouldn’t want to miss my niece and nephews.”

  I looked at him sideways. Any worry or concern he might have had about coming home after so long seemed gone, and he looked only happy and relaxed. He also made no attempt to explain or justify the Lady Claudia’s singing, which I myself would have felt compelled to do in the circumstances.

  “Why did your brother really want to see you?” I asked. The flower-scented air was warm, and a bird sang from a nearby branch.

  “He told you last night,” said Joachim, looking out across the landscape. He didn’t sound very concerned. “He’d hoped I’d have an idea of who or what might be responsible for his disappearing caravans, and of course he hadn’t dare say anything specific to me in a message that might be intercepted. I’m afraid I have no ideas that could help him. Now he’s asked me to keep alert for any clues while we’re in the East.”

  “Has the Lady Claudia asked you again to transact business for the firm while we’re in Xantium?”

  “No,” said Joachim in surprise. He turned his dark eyes on me. “This whole situation seems, I must say, more like a problem for a wizard than a priest.”