A Snoop Without Magic
Magic Missing
Book Five
By
Guy Antibes
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Map of the Continent of Holding
Magic Missing Character List
Excerpt of the first book in the Wizard’s Helper series – The Serpent’s Orb
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
A Bit About Guy
Books by Guy Antibes
Copyright ©2019 Guy Antibes. All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the permission of the author.
~
This is a work of fiction. There are no real locations used in the book; the people, settings, and specific places are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual persons, locations, or places are purely coincidental.
Published by CasiePress LLC in Salt Lake City, UT, March 2019.
www.casiepress.com
Cover Design: www.ebooklaunch.com
Book Design: Kenneth Cassell
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
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The final episode of Sam Smith has been written. Don’t worry, he didn’t die, but the Magic Missing series is over with A Snoop Without Magic. Putting one of my heroes in a world with magic when he had none, had some challenges. Sam still rises to the challenge, but he had more trials than most.
Like a play that has curtain calls, I’d like to again thank Bev, Ken, Judy, and the cover people at EbookLaunch for seeing me through another series.
— Guy Antibes
The Continent of Holding
including Duar, Gruellia, and Toraltia
Chapter One
~
A knock on the door woke Sam Smith. He rose from the shabby couch in the little house he had rented in Renase, the major port for Duar, the northernmost of the West Countries on the Holding continent. Desmon and Glory had taken Emmy, Sam’s Great Sanchian hound, for a walk around the town. Renase was too small and rough to be called a city. So he opened the door to look at two men standing on the porch.
“How can I help you?” Sam said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“You are the Sam Smith who deposited twenty Zogazin Eagles in the Renase Bank?”
Sam smiled and blinked away the cobwebs from his brain. “I am.”
“The teller who accepted your money was unaware of the port’s regulations regarding foreigners,” one of the men said. “You are not permitted to deposit money in the bank.”
Sam blinked again. “I asked specifically if it was permitted. The bank manager signed the receipt. Shall I get it for you?”
The men smiled, but Sam didn’t like that kind of smile. “No need. The regulations are clear. The port has the right to confiscate your funds. Please don’t try to bother the bank manager, since he has already been physically chastised for his mistake.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. “You beat the man for accepting my deposit?”
“He was less than cooperative when told the port would be seizing your funds. I am sure you understand.”
“Am I allowed to spend money in the town?”
“You will have to come to the port’s offices tomorrow and fill out forms, pay fees, and whatever.”
Sam took that for a yes. He managed a smile. At least they hadn’t arrested him. “Thank you for personally informing me. I can spend the night in the house that I rented for a full month, can’t I?”
“Of course.”
“For tonight,” the other man said.
~
Sam Smith, Desmon Sandal, Glory Wheeler, and Emmy, the dog, sat around a campfire in the dampness of a cold night. Emmy barked and ran off into the woods.
It was decided that Desmon was the group’s cook, and that was okay with Sam. He poked a stick in the coals, heating up a spitted rabbit that Emmy had caught when they first arrived at their campsite.
He shook his head, amazed at the brazenness of the town officials. “At least I had the tiny amount of wisdom to deposit a small amount in the bank.”
“Small amount? That was enough to last us for ten years in Renase,” Desmon said, as if we would want to spend that much in this hole.”
Glory shook her head. “Robbers. Little wonder no one likes the West Countries,” she said, having grown up in Toraltia over the mountains to the east.
“They are like what I thought the Zogazin would be before I spent time in the country,” Sam said. “The Duarians are more like the thugs that ran the port of Pundia.” The Pundians had extorted much more than twenty gold coins to allow The Twisted Wind to purchase food when Sam voyaged to Tolloy in Polistia.
“Exactly!” Desmon said as he turned the spit.
Sam heard Emmy bark, and soon the huge beast dropped another rabbit by the fire. She looked expectantly at Sam, who tossed Emmy’s capture away from the fire. “It is all yours,” Sam said. Emmy barked and ran after her dinner.
After a meal of boiled vegetables and the roasted rabbit, they turned in, except for Sam, who spent a bit more time in front of the dwindling fire looking at their map. He noted that the next village was part of the Latruse domain. There were a few nobles sprinkled around Duar, Sam had been told, when he bought their supplies to head inland from the port.
He turned in, sleeping in the tiny cloth tent he had purchased. Desmon and Glory made much bigger tents out of pollen, but even though Sam could make pollen now, his aversion to pollen still made the tent loosen and sag overnight, and that was beside the fact that his pollen tents would be invisible to the others. Emmy only made it worse by her desire to sleep with him.
Three more days on the rough roads in Duar brought them to the village of Latruse. They spent the night at the local inn. Their dinner wasn’t much better than their roadside meals. At least the rabbits that Emmy invariably caught were fresh. Sam wasn’t so sure about the meat in his stew.
The day dawned bright, and Sam descended from his tiny vermin-infested room. A man dressed in gold-trimmed tan twill greeted them. Glory already sat at his table.
“World travelers!” the man said grinning. “I am Lord Latruse. Welcome to my domain. When I found foreigners spending the night at this inn, I thought it only right to invite you to my manor for a few days. The food is better, and the rooms are much cleaner. All I ask in return are a few stories about far-off lands.”
 
; “There are three of us,” Sam said, not wanting to commit, but still, the offer seemed to be a good one. They could certainly pay their way with stories of Polistia and Wollia.
Desmon joined them. Lord Latruse gave the Wollian the same offer.
“My manor is less than an hour away. I can feed you there.” He made a face encouraging them to accept.
“Of course,” Desmon said, brightly. “We would be happy to entertain you, as you entertain us.”
The lord was taken aback.
“None of us have been to Duar before. I am sure you can provide us with a few local stories.”
Lord Latruse caught on and laughed. “It is settled then. Hurry and pack up. I will take the lady in my carriage, if you don’t mind.”
Sam looked at Desmon. “As long as we leave at the same time,” Sam said.
“Of course. How else would you know where to go?”
Sam didn’t think it would be too hard to find the manor of the domain they were currently in. It didn’t take them long to pile their belongings in the wagon, where Sam, Desmon, and Emmy traveled, while Lord Latruse entertained Glory, who had changed into a dress for the occasion.
They eventually turned down a lane straighter than the curving road that they had been on and soon rolled through a rather large wall with sturdy gates to a light-colored three-story stone house. It wasn’t the kind of noble manor Sam had visited in Baskin, but it was the noblest structure he had seen since he landed in Duar.
He was relieved to see Glory giggling at something Lord Latruse said as she exited the Lord’s carriage. Like everything else in Duar, it looked as if it was designed centuries ago, but the structure didn’t look old. Desmon nudged Sam to show him that the walls were manned. From the inside, it looked more like a keep than a manor house.
“I will have servants take your things. If there is anything you wish to have with you, now is the time to grab it,” Lord Latruse said as he climbed the steps to his manor.
A well-dressed woman opened the door and stood next to the noble as Sam’s group assembled on the wide stone porch. Sam noticed that there was nothing flammable on the porch. He took his spectacles off and looked at pollen patches covering repairs and burn marks on the stone.
“This is my wife Margritte. I don’t think we have been properly introduced, except for Glory, of course.”
Sam had to admit Lord Latruse was the most genial person he had met in Duar.
Desmon chimed in with the introductions. He gave them less information than Sam would, and that was out of character for the Wollian, Sam thought.
“Come in. I will have servants show you to your rooms after breakfast,” the lord said.
Sam was glad for that. He was getting hungry. “And something for Emmy?”
Lord Latruse turned around. “I thought you were Glory?” he said, turning to the girl.
“Emmy is Sam’s dog.”
“The big brute? I didn’t even notice it was a she. Of course.” Lord Latruse nodded to one of his servants who scuttled out the front door. “Is she a kind dog?” the lord said, looking a bit concerned.
“That she is unless provoked.”
Their host looked a bit relieved. “Good.” He turned to his wife. “Margritte, lead us to the buffet room.”
The furniture was dark and massive in the small dining room. Three young girls were playing with dolls and a crib in the corner.
“Time to move to the nursery, children,” their mother said, but she stopped them in time to introduce them to the visitors.
The girls curtseyed in a practiced way for their ages, Sam thought, before they left. He could hear them laughing as they clomped up the stairs outside the room.
Lord Latruse asked them to sit while Magritte left to supervise the preparation of breakfast. “It won’t take long. Eggs, bacon, morning bread with lots of butter.” He rubbed his hands.
Margritte entered the room, followed by servants bearing the food on trays they placed on a long sideboard.
“If you please, help yourself,” Lord Latruse said, getting up to join his wife, still standing.
Once they were seated, the noble asked them to begin, and then he would require a story as payment for their breakfast.
Somehow, everything tasted better to Sam after more than four years away from Holding. He was curious what morning bread was, but it was a roll filled with apricot jam. It was a delicious and unexpected treat.
“I’ll begin,” Desmon said. He related one of Sam’s adventures in Wollia, the one with the pollen-covered door leading to a subterranean warehouse that ended with Desmon, Glory, and Sam on The Twisted Wind, sailing out of port. Desmon’s details were a little different from Sam’s recollection, but he didn’t correct the Wollian spy.
Lord Latruse clapped. “I had no idea you were all so accomplished.”
Magritte had clapped along with her husband. “Exciting! We lead such dull lives.”
Sam doubted if they were dull, but they probably didn’t involve traveling anywhere by ship.
“I noticed you have manned walls circling the manor grounds. Is there a reason for that?”
Lord Latruse smiled. “You probably weren’t taught about the West Countries in school. We live in a feudal society, not quite as enlightened as Baskin, I’m sure. Away from the capital, men are prone to make up their own rules. The more secure your holdings, the more rules you can make up. It is as simple as that. I choose to live a more serene life than some of my neighbors who think nothing of occasionally trying to make me follow their rules, hence the wall.”
Sam had suspected as much. Cherryton compulsory school had taught a unit of West Countries feudalism. Now Sam suspected he would learn more.
“We have already been subject to rulemaking,” Sam said. He told them of his experience at Renase and the confiscated bank deposit.
Latruse grinned. “Exactly what I was talking about. The port council probably saw that money sitting in the bank and decided it needed to be theirs.”
“It is, now,” Sam said.
“I promise you, I am not like that.” He looked at his wife, “Am I, Margritte?”
“Sometimes,” she said, smiling and tracing her finger along Latruse’s close-shaven chin line. She looked at them. “We do what we can do to more than survive. Peer and I have three daughters, and we want them brought up learning manners, discipline, and how to have fun that can be shared with others. That is not the case with some of our neighbors. Do you understand?”
Desmon leaned forward. “I do indeed. Wollia can be a wild place. I admire your philosophy.”
Someone knocked on the door and entered without waiting for permission.
“I am sorry to disturb you, but Lord Ankras has decided to move his assault up a week. Could you talk terms with him?”
“Now?”
The man looked apologetic. “I am afraid so.”
“You may come or stay as you please,” Lord Latruse said to Sam’s group. “Lord Ankras is one who likes to have fun that is not shared by others.”
Chapter Two
~
S am looked at the manor’s walls. Despite their lack of height, the walls were much thicker than Sam had originally perceived. A force of twenty or thirty men milled around outside the front gate while Lord Latruse’s men scrambled to the walls. Sam’s host must have housed at least one hundred men-at-arms in his compound.
Lord Latruse stood with his fists on hips and legs spread apart watching the attackers. “Where is Lord Ankras?” he called down to the small force, “and why are there so few men for us to kill?”
Sam could see a somewhat guilty look on the men’s faces. He wondered if there was a different-than-normal strategy being employed. He looked at Lord Latruse. “Can Lord Ankras be attacking on two fronts?”
Latruse shook his head ruefully. “He has done that before, and I have men in key places. He has upset my schedule, and for that, he will pay.”
The whole situation confused Sam. He hadn’t exp
ected the casual approach that Latruse took. Even his threat seemed to be said as a matter of form rather than out of any deep anger.
“If you are right, there will be more action in the back of the estate. Let’s go,” the lord said before making a few comments to one of the guards and walking nonchalantly to the back side of his compound.
A small, thicker gate was set into the wall and Sam could see more men manning the walls and others clustering around the steps leading to the wall. He could hear men shouting, one to another, from the top of the wall. The guards just looked on. A few even joked about the guards below.
“Pollen armor, at the least, gentlemen,” Latruse said. “Lord Ankras has few men capable of hitting anything but the sky and my wall, but you never know when they can get lucky.”
The men parted for the three of them, Glory had elected to stay in the house with Margritte while they went on their inspection. When they reached the top of the wall, Sam looked down at a larger force gathered at the posterior gate than at the front.
“Lord Ankras will arrive within the hour to batter down your wall,” one of the men said.
Latruse laughed. “Shoot him,” he said.
A few arrows pelted the men below, but Sam could tell Latruse’s archers weren’t any more proficient than he was. An arrow hit one of the men in the leg, but the others missed. Sam had never seen such incompetence. He looked at the faces of the guards above and below and realized that it wasn’t all incompetence.
“No one is trying very hard,” Sam said. Desmon smiled and nodded in agreement.
“Of course, not!” Latruse said. “If they did, all of Duar would be depopulated. Enough men die or are injured to make life interesting.”
Life interesting, for whom? Sam thought. “Is that why Duar doesn’t have many people?”
Latruse laughed. “Of course. We like it that way.”
“By ‘we’ you mean the nobility?” Sam asked.
Latruse nodded. “Who else is there?”
Sam wasn’t about to contradict his host. “Since my friends and I are not of the nobility, will we be able to transit Duar to Toraltia without problems?”