Adventures of Jacko the Conjurer by Jamie Ott (love books to read txt) 📕

Later that night, she took dinner alone in her room on the hearth.

Her quarters were bland. A couple hanging tapestries covered the wood walls. In the center was a canopied wooden bed with stuffed and sewn up cloths.

Over mulled wine and sheep’s stomach with honey and cheese, she imagined what would become of her beloved Sarmizegetusa.

The Romans had a history of destroying capital cities, with especial ill regard to temples and universities, often burning them to the ground. Great countries had already lost so much history and learning. The thought of such things happening to her city made her sick.

She sipped her wine and sighed.

The fire crackled.

Her brother was right, she said to herself. Although King Decebalus didn’t believe it, his time would come to an end.

Lyssa wondered what her future would be.

Where would she go when the time came? Would she end up a peasant, a servant, or a slave?

What if she decided not to flee the palace? Would she be beaten, dragged through the city and executed?

Bastard or no, it wasn’t common practice that any living descendants of a king should survive, lest he should declare himself King and exact his revenge when the conqueror least expected.

Dracus promised he’d always come for her; that she was all the family he had. But Lyssa knew that he was a terrible combatant. Even when the King sent him to the infantry, he’d likely be a councilman.

“So that’s it,” she said to herself. “I must leave before they come.”

The sound of the palace gates being drawn distracted her from her thoughts.

She set her bread down and walked to the open shutter.

Her brother’s shield bounced a ray of moonlight into her eye, as he rode down the mountain.

Every time he left, she got scared. One day, if the Romans didn’t come soon, she’d be gone by the time he got back. Her stepmother would see to it.

She went to her special hiding place behind her favorite red tapestry.

Lyssa drew back the canvas and wiggled out the 10x4 inch piece of wood. Inside laid her favorite knife, a baselard, and the morning star her brother forged for her.

The baselard was sheathed by a scabbard that Lyssa had sewn into a set of straps. She rolled up her sleeve and tied the straps around her arm.

When the blade was secured, she grabbed the morning star and replaced the wood.

Lyssa returned to the fire and resumed her dining.

When alone in the palace with her stepmother and Celius, it was a wise practice to keep some weapons close. Lyssa was stronger than most humans, but she could still be overcome in numbers.

Dracus made the morning star especially for her. It was a small spiked metal ball with a chain that was attached to a foot long wood handle. He reinforced the handle with a sheet of metal.

One thing her brother was superb at was making weapons and glass jewelry. The King said it was beneath him, however, and banned him from returning to the smiths.

Lyssa was irritated because Dracus was going to visit his mistress.

He knew she hated it when he left her alone, especially when the King was gone. It was at those times she felt most vulnerable.

“Lyssa,” he told her, once. “Andrada will only be coming for you when no one is around, and when you are vulnerable,” he stressed. “She’ll always be waiting, and you must always be ready.”

He was right, but his frequent absences could give Andrada an opportunity to get rid of her sooner rather than later.

Lyssa wasn’t ready to leave the palace, yet. She wanted to stay as long as possible. And it wasn’t just the fear of going out, alone, in the world as a peasant that held her back, but it was the idea of never seeing her father or brother again. Even if the King was in denial, all of their lives had an expiration that was nearing.

Simply, Lyssa loved her brother and father. She wanted to make the most of the time they had left, together.

~~~

That night, when Lyssa settled into bed, she followed the procedure advised by her brother. She left two candles burning, put a pair of sandals by her bed, and hid her weapons under her pillow. If the castle were to be stormed, she’d be ready to go.

Every so often, she was stirred by a murmur or vibration within the walls.

Just as she started to nod off, the feel of many people running in the castle vibrated up through the floor boards.

Lyssa got out of bed and gently pulled back the wood pivoted blockade.

Her stepmother’s servant was arguing with her governess.

Suddenly, the whispering stopped. She heard a sharp intake of breath, and something fell to the floor.

Lyssa pulled back the blockade a bit more, and looked out to see what made the noise.

Her governess was lying on the floor, clutching her abdomen.

She screamed, “Lyssaaa! They’re coming, run!”

Lyssa slammed the blockade shut.

Lying against the wall was a 6x6x6 inch wood bar. She slid it into the metal rests that were grooved into the door and the wall.

Her step mother’s servant rammed the door.

She ran to her bed, slipped on her sandals and grabbed her morning star.

The bottom half of the door broke in.

The servant, and a man she’d never seen before, ducked under the wood bar.

She spun gracefully as she swung the spiked ball into the man’s face, spattering blood all over the servant’s night dress.

The servant screamed.

More footsteps vibrated up through the wood floor.

Lyssa pulled back the red tapestry of flowers, and kicked in the wall, behind which her brother had a secret waiter installed.

She tried not to scream, as she plummeted four floors down.

A moment later, she hit the underground floor.

Just like Dracus told her, there were little ridges in the ground that glowed with the remnants of eel blood.

She followed the ridges to the wall.

Lyssa drew back her fist and punched in the wood. Then she yanked back the planks so that she could squeeze in.

Inside, her brother had a special set of wooden espadrilles, which she tied around her ankles and then ran down the wall.

Desperately, she tried to hold her breath as much as possible, for the stench of urine and rot was horrible.

She couldn’t see a thing, except for traces of eel blood painted on the wood walls.

The ground continued to grade down. She stumbled a couple of times.

Five hundred feet later, she sighed with relief because the ground had leveled off, meaning that she was at the bottom of the mountain and was traveling through the tunnel.

Right up ahead, a tiny white light could be seen.

Fresh air breezed past her.

Happiness welled up inside her.

Once emerged out of the hole, she ran as fast as she could. With the moon full, and no trees or plants to obscure her for 200 more feet, she could still be seen by those on the mountain.

A few moments later, she made it through the small clearing, into the trees. She chanced a backward glance.

Along the castle wall, lamps had been lit. There was a shadow moving down the mountain road.

Just like her brother said, he’d left a trail for her. It was a bunch of white stones that, at first glance, seemed to zig zag ahead of her. When she looked at the white rocks as a whole, she could tell they all went in one direction: North.

She followed the trail to a tree where she dug up the Earth.

Buried there was a large box.

Inside, there was a plain purple dress and a purse with enough gold and silver coins for Lyssa to live well for many years. Beside it laid her brother’s miniature crossbow – perfect for catching small prey, and a bag of the smallest arrows she’d ever seen.

Quickly, she changed and disappeared further into the forest.

Romani Circle

Chapter 2

Lyssa walked until the moon and the sun faced each other from opposite sides of the sky.

Once more, she looked at the map her brother left for her.

Lyssa was never good at interpreting handwritten landscapes. Her brother told her that if she got confused, to follow the seven stars until the sun rose. Then walk with her back to the sun.

Now that the sun was rising, and the morning star glittered through the trees, it was time to go west.

She wished he would have told her how far she’d need to go because she was really starting to get hungry.

A few miles later, she approached a clearing where a road had recently been traveled.

Lyssa knelt and looked at the grooves of the tracks. The patterns suggested that more people went left, than right.

So which way should she go?

If she went left, she could find a city where people were looking for her. To go right might mean she’d be on the road for some time, and would have to hunt for food.

After a few moments contemplation, she went left.

Several hours later, a village that she didn’t recognize came into view.

The road led her straight through a marketplace. On the left and right sides, farmers and smiths had their stands up and were selling goods.

She pulled a small silver piece from her bosom, and bought a small loaf of bread. Up ahead, the road lead to a line of people waiting with buckets at a well.

People paid her no mind as she got in line to drink and wet her face.

She continued along the road until the end of the town.

Not sure of what to do, she sat on the edge of the road to think.

A very dark and scruffy looking man, wearing a schenti, sidled over to her. His face was fallen into folds, and gray heavily bespeckled his beard.

“You look lost, miss,” he said nicely.

“I’m fine.”

“Shouldn’t you have a guardian?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, a lady never goes out alone.”

“Please, go.”

But the man ignored her.

“Are you running away from home, miss?”

She said nothing.

“I’ve known many noblemen, in my time. They keep their children locked away, or on very short chains. Eventually, they all want to see the world. Parents just don’t understand that children need to experience things, too.”

The man sat down next to her in the dirt.

On his shoulder, he carried a bag. He pulled the cork from it and took a sip.

“Here, miss. This will make you feel better.”

She took the leather bag and sipped. From it, spiced ale refreshed her.

“My name’s Bali.”

The man pulled a hunk of cured goat from his other bag. He sliced off a chunk and gave it to her, before helping himself.

“You know, I have seven daughters and one boy,” he sighed. “I know how a woman’s heart works. They never want to do what they’re destined to, on this Earth. Can’t say I blame them. There is so much more to life than breeding.”

He smiled and turned to her.

“How would you like to see the sunset on the Nile? Or cross into Athens and meet real men of learning?” he asked, chewing down his meat.

“I suppose I’d like that,” she said, taking another sip of the ale.

“You look like a woman of learning, yourself. Can you read?”

“Yes.”

“So can I,” he leaned in and smiled.

A cart with a mule slowly made its way up the road.

“Well, miss, it’s getting hotter; high noon approaches. I must be getting back. Why don’t you come with me? You obviously have no place to go. A pretty girl like you should not be alone. You can meet my daughters and the rest of my family.”

Lyssa looked up at the man. He seemed harmless. Seven daughters meant he was likely not a lunatic.

She followed him further down the road.

~~~

They walked for an hour before turning into another section of forest.

High noon had come, and the heat was making her tired.

“Just a short way, miss.”

Out of the trees, appeared a tall cliff that blocked out the sun, giving them shade.

Beside the cliff was a row of half a dozen wagons.

Before the wagons’ was a