03- A Sip of Magic Read online

  A Sip of Magic

  Disinherited Prince Series

  Book Three

  By

  Guy Antibes

  In the world of Phairoon

  Map of The Dukedoms of Eastril

  Map of a Portion of the Baccusol Empire

  A Sip of Magic

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~

  POL CISSERT LOOKED AT SEVEN MONKS AND VALISO GASIBLI, whom Pol called Val, sitting around the table where he had taken magic lessons from Vactor before he left Deftnis. Searl Hogton, the Master Healer, and Pol had already given their account of what had happened in the foothills of the Wild Spines, and Val had backed up their adventures in the Listyan capital of Alsador, where Pol had eventually saved the life of King Landon, his estranged brother.

  “So what are we going to do with you?” Abbot Pleagor, the head of Deftnis Monastery, asked Pol.

  “Searl cured me,” Pol said. He didn’t know if it was an appropriate answer, but the vast improvement of his health had been all he could think about since he had returned to Deftnis Isle from his quest to find Searl.

  “You are cured, but I can’t have a fifteen-year-old Seventh Level magician roaming around the monastery.”

  “Gray? I’m just a Fourth Level, and I’ll be sixteen in a few months.”

  The Abbot waved the list of Pol’s ten tests that Searl had insisted he pass before they could leave the Spines. “This is a set of Seventh Level attributes.”

  Pol looked at Vactor. “Tell them it isn’t so,” Pol pleaded.

  Vactor shrugged. “It is. In addition, you can color your hair and create your own spells.”

  “Val made disguises,” Pol said.

  “I would hope he could. Val is Eighth Level.”

  “A Black?” Pol glared at Val. “You lied to me.”

  Val looked back with emotionless eyes. “So?”

  Searl raised his hands to calm things down. “Steady, boy. Listen to Val.”

  “Yes, listen to him,” the Abbott said.

  “Actually, I told you that I didn’t ride all the way to Deftnis just to accompany Searl back to the monastery,” Val said. “The Emperor is concerned about South Salvan, and King Astor’s ambitions will not end with the death of his daughter. I had intended to find a suitable Second Level magician, but with your improved health, you are the ideal candidate to help me fill a vital mission for the Empire.”

  “I just returned,” Pol said. “I spent the last three months finding a way to stay here, and now you want me to leave? King Astor wants me dead, and you want me to go to Covial, the South Salvan capital, to spy on my worst enemy?”

  “Yes. Except you won’t be going Covial, but Tesna,” Val said.

  “That’s where Coram, the Tesnan spy who tried to kill me three times, came from!”

  “You won’t be going as Pol Cissert, or Poldon Fairfield, but under the guise of a young noble’s son, already accepted to Tesna. He is sixteen, and now that you are growing and filling out, you’ll be able to take his place.”

  Pol frowned. He didn’t want to leave the monastery when he had fought so hard to return. “I still want to stay here.”

  “As much as I enjoy seeing you learn, Pol, you present problems at your age,” the Abbot said. “Your education is still somewhat of a patchwork. The next youngest Gray is twenty-two years of age, and he is considered a brilliant prodigy. You are adept at many spells, yet you have no idea of what else you might accomplish. Your previous ill health prevented you from even attempting some basic Third Level spells—”

  “Like magician lights?” Pol never could muster the energy to tweak the pattern of air that would generate a cold, white light. He agreed with the Abbot. “So, that means I need to spend more time learning. That’s what Vactor and I were doing before I had to leave last spring.”

  “Val can help with that,” Vactor said.

  “But I don’t want to go,” Pol said. He felt like a child who had been given a new toy, only to have it confiscated by his parents. “I looked forward to coming back.”

  Silence met his comment. Pol looked at the faces, all of them reflecting back some level of disappointment at his reluctance.

  “I’ll be doing more Seeking?” Pol said, watching his former Seeker teacher nod. He knew he couldn’t back out of this task, but he did enjoy Seeking, so he would concentrate on that. He reluctantly said, “I’ll do it. I suppose I have plenty of time to return, now that I won’t be dying anytime soon.”

  “At least not from your formerly bad heart,” Searl said, with a sly grin.

  ~

  Pol felt uncomfortable walking around Deftnis Monastery wearing the gray cord of a Seventh Level magician around his waist. He still slept in the dormitory, but the Abbot told him that would end when he returned from Tesna, no matter what happened. He had no classes to attend since the summer term had started in his absence.

  Paki, his companion from Borstall Castle, and Kell, who accompanied them to retrieve Searl, took his elevation in stride as Pol sat down with them for dinner. They had already met with Darrol Netherfield and Searl Hogton to talk about what went on after they had left Pol with Searl, the minweed-addicted Master Healer.

  “There is talk about you leaving us at Harvest Break,” Kell said.

  Pol could only nod. “It’s a secret mission, but I’m heading east.”

  Paki squinted as he worked his brain, probably thinking of what Pol’s mission could be. “Is it dangerous?”

  Even still, Val had been closed-mouth about the details other than the fact that he would be headed for the monastery at Tesna, and that it would, indeed, definitely put him in peril. “I don’t know much more than that,” Pol said.

  “Can we go with you?” Kell asked.

  Pol shook his head. “I don’t know yet. I do know that I won’t be going to Borstall. You can understand that I’m relieved about that.”

  Paki made a face. “More political stuff, huh? At least you don’t have to take summer classes like Kell and me. I feel like I’m in jail.”

  “Life always changes,” Pol said. He didn’t tell them that politics wasn’t what Val was drilling him on. “Anyway, when Harvest Break starts, you can go down to Deftnis Port any time you want.”

  Paki grinned. “That’s right. I can hardly wait, but that might not happen.”

  “Oh?” Pol said.

  “I’m going home to see my mother.”

  “Borstall Castle might not be a welcoming place.” Pol worried about Paki returning to where they both had grown up. Even though Pol wouldn’t be with them, he worried about vindictive siblings.

  “Not to worry. I’m taking Kell with me,” Paki said. “He has an uncle who has a family trading office in Borstall. They have ships that go back and forth from Volia, and I’ll be staying away from the castle.”

  “Yeah,” Kell said. “My father won’t mind me visiting Uncle Wester. He’s always wanted me to know more about the family business. We will be living with him.”

  Pol smiled. They would be all be heading east, but to different destinations. “I’d be more than a little uncomfortable in Borstall.”

  “So your mission works out for everybody,” Paki said. “We’ll miss you, but then you’ll probably miss us.” He laughed.

  “Probably,” Pol said, knowing that he envied them their freedom.

  ~

  When Pol walked into the little classroom off the Monastery library, Darrol stood and greeted him.

  “How are you, Pol?” Darrol said. “We haven’t been together very much since you returned.”

  “What are you doing here?” Pol said. “Are you going to join my classes?”

  The former Borstall Castle guard nodded. “Val asked me to come by and listen in. It loo
ks like we are going to do some more traveling together.”

  Pol raised his eyebrows. Val didn’t say they would be accompanied on their trip, but Pol was glad of it, and he broke into a smile. Val continued to intimidate him, since the Seeker was full of information that he seemed reticent to divulge, so Darrol would leaven the awkwardness that Pol was sure to feel traveling alone with Val.

  Val walked in then and told them to sit. He looked at Darrol, and then at Pol. “We are done with catching you up on Third and Fourth level magic with their accompanying patterns and tweaks. Now that Darrol is coming along, let’s summarize the mission. You are already accepted into Tesna Monastery as an acolyte from a noble family in Boxall. Your mission is to find out how King Astor intends to use the monastery to rebel against the Empire.”

  “But Darrol—”

  “Darrol is coming along to keep me company. We’ll be camped close by, and you’ll be sending us messages on your progress.”

  Darrol narrowed his eyes at Val. “I’m going to be your nursemaid?” he said.

  Val turned up a corner of his mouth. His smile always looked like more of a sneer to Pol. “I need someone to tuck me in at night, Darrol.”

  “I’m happy to do that, if it will help Pol,” Darrol said. A year ago, he had become Pol’s sworn man, no matter if Pol wanted him or not.

  After nodding, Val said, “It will. I don’t want to become a fixture in the town that supports the monastery. We won’t have a good plan for communicating, since I’ve only been to Tesna Monastery once, and that was years ago.” He looked at Pol.

  “I’m ready,” Pol said. He said it, but he was still a reluctant participant.

  “No, you’re not. Now that you know all about your new family in Boxall, we concentrate on Tesna. I’ve got the latest plans of the place. I want you both to listen carefully…”

  ~

  Searl looked down on Pol as he lay on the familiar examination table in the Deftnis infirmary. “Everything looks stable to me,” Searl said. “I do good work. You’ve already started to catch up on your growth, and you’ll be seeing more changes in your body, so don’t be too alarmed when you begin to grow as tall as other fifteen-year-olds.”

  Pol took a deep breath and jumped off the table. “No chance that your fixes will reverse themselves?”

  Searl mirrored Pol’s sigh. “We can all die tomorrow. I can’t be certain, but there isn’t any deterioration, and it’s been weeks since I did my work. You are feeling better, aren’t you?”

  Pol nodded. “I feel stronger every day.”

  “You’re smart enough to look out for yourself.”

  “Just like I looked out for you?”

  Searl smiled and nodded. “Same thing.” He put his arm around Pol. “I owe you more than I can say. I knew I was wasting away in that cabin, but minweed changes the way one thinks. You arrived to save me.” He kept nodding his head. “Now I have better things to look forward to than lying on my bed to welcome minweed oblivion.”

  “I’m happy about your daughter’s pregnancy, too,” Pol said.

  That brought a broader smile on the monk’s face. “Come back safe and sound, Pol. You have lots of friends who are looking for you to succeed.”

  Pol smiled. Indeed he did have friends; even the Emperor had helped him, and now he went on this mission to pay back Hazett III, the Emperor of Baccusol, for saving him from certain death in his former home, Castle Borstall, although he would have to go into the heart of an enemy, Tesna Monastery.

  At least he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of strength in critical situations.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~

  NEARLY A YEAR AGO, POL HAD RIDDEN THROUGH A SIMILAR SLICE of the flat, rolling plains of Boxall and Finster. The rockier parts were given up for cattle and sheep, but there were large flatter areas which were used for farming. From higher vantage points, he could see large patches of different colors and textures from the crops in various stages of growth.

  When he had fled from Borstall Castle in North Salvan to escape from King Colvin and his murderous children, Pol was a disinherited prince on the run. Harvest was in full swing at that time. Now as he approached from a different direction, the fields were green or yellow with ripening crops at the end of mid-summer.

  Val and Darrol rode ahead of him, leaving Pol alone, but he had the companionship of Demeron, his Shinkyan stallion. Only Shinkyan horses had the ability to communicate with humans, but those humans had to have the magical strength to create a mental link. As far as Pol had been told, Shinkyans were jealous of those who could tap into that ability and did not allow members of the Baccusol Empire to purchase Shinkyan horses.

  Pol had received a special dispensation from Emperor Hazett III to own Demeron, and his horse had saved his life a number of times. Pol couldn’t ask for a more special friend.

  “Do you remember this ride?” Pol asked.

  I do. When we came through here last, I enjoyed smelling all the ripe grain and being frustrated that I couldn’t eat any of it.

  “You had more of it than you remember. I fed you grain as much as I could while we rode.”

  Perhaps. I don’t see much ready to eat now.

  “That’s because summer is still in full swing, and the grain isn’t quite ripe. I’ll make sure you get plenty of grain as long as I am with you. We will be separated while I’m at the monastery.”

  Darrol will keep me well fed. I’m not so sure Val would. He doesn't see horses as friends, but as servants.

  Pol nodded, but he had to smile when he realized that Demeron couldn’t see his expressions “Behave with both of them.”

  ~

  A few days later, the three of them arrived at the Grainell farm. It was quite a bit more than a farm, Pol realized, when they rode through the large gates leading into the estate. Woods grew a few hundred paces on either side of the road leading to the house.

  Pol couldn’t see the manor from the gate, and it took a while until they rode around a bend. The road widened like the large end of a funnel, and the manor house stood on top of a rise. A cluster of buildings sat on the level ground below the house.

  The manor itself was impressive. Pol had visited manor houses of his stepfather’s liegemen before. This was as large as any of those. The stone was yellowish gray made into large dressed blocks. They looked like they were fitted very tightly. The roof was high and painted green, covering three stories, with dormered windows poking out from the roof.

  For some reason, Pol had thought the boy he would replace was an impoverished noble, but obviously, this wasn’t the case. Val took them along the right-hand side of a split in the road. This part of the approach was paved with cut stone the same color as the building. The horses clopped over the pavement and proceeded along a drive lined with manicured gardens on both sides. They stopped under a large portico.

  “We are here. This is not where your adventure begins, but your time spent in this house is yet another stage in preparation,” Val said as he dismounted and walked up the steps to the large double doors.

  Pol looked back and observed a sea of fields below them, stretching to the horizon, shimmering and shining under the cloudless sky. He wondered if Lord Grainell owned all the land in view.

  A voice called to Val, making Pol turn around.

  “You have arrived. Come in and meet Nater,” a man said. He dressed in court clothes, but they were made of plain linen rather than velvet or silk. His shirt was white, and he wore tan pants and a dark vest. At least he didn’t wear long linen stockings. The man looked up and down at Pol.

  “Even riding a Shinkyan stallion, to boot. I’ve a Shinkyan scholar teaching Nater. He’ll be interested in your horse, young man,” the man said, addressing Pol directly.

  The three of them walked into the mansion. The thick stone walls seemed to block out much of the summer heat. They passed a butler holding open the door and followed their host, who obviously was Lord Grainell, into the
house,

  They exited on a covered verandah on the eastern side. A table had been laid out for ten, but he showed them to a group of chairs set farther along the porch.

  “Nothing formal, if you don’t mind. I’m not one for formal entertaining, unless I am in court with King Weremont or the Emperor. Sit while I get you some cool drinks, and I’ll bring Nater and his teacher.”

  He nodded to them and left the trio to find seats. Pol took one pointed towards another view of the fields. “Does Lord Grainell own all that we can see?”

  Val gave Pol a smirk. “That’s why he’s a lord. This hill was built long ago. A castle once stood here, but the political situation was different then. Lord Grainell is a strong supporter of Hazett and spends more time in Yastan, the Imperial capital, than in his own.”

  A serving woman brought cool drinks for them. Pol’s was a slightly darker color.

  Darrol took a sip. “More alcohol in ours, I’d bet,” he said.

  Pol tasted fruit juice, but he also tasted a hint of something else.

  “Maybe we can introduce each other now,” Lord Grainell said, entering the verandah with a boy much the same height as Pol and a black-haired man. Pol had seen pictures of Shinkyans before, and this man fit the general look with his narrow eyes and wide cheeks.

  “I am Valiso Gasibli. This is Darrol Netherfield, Pol’s sworn man, and, of course, Pol Cissert.”

  Grainell bowed to Pol. “Prince Poldon. I saw you once when I visited Borstall over a decade ago. I remember you clinging to your nursemaid’s skirts.”

  “I’m disinherited,” Pol said, “no longer a prince. I’m sorry, I don’t remember that far back.”

  Grainell smiled and shrugged. “I’m sure none of us do,” he said. “This is my son, Nater, and his teacher, Karo Nagoya.”

  The teacher bowed deeply to them. “You ride the Shinkyan Stallion?” His gaze bore into Pol.

  “The Emperor has allowed me to own him.”

  “You are a magician. Have you tried to link with him?”

  Pol didn’t quite know what to say, but obviously Karo knew all about Shinkyan horses speaking with their masters. He nodded. “I had no idea Demeron could do such a thing when I first rode him. We learned about each other at Deftnis Monastery.”