A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

“For a moment,” Brother Yvan said.

Trevor gazed at the intruding magician for a moment. “I wonder if shadows will also be made invisible.”

“We won’t be finding out in my court,” the king said, but Trevor guessed they would, eventually.

After a brief discussion on what to do, a courtier poked his head into the conference room. “Your next meeting starts in a few minutes.”

Trevor quickly told the king about their experience on the Northern Road.

“Seer Deepen can tell me more about that later today. I will attend my meetings this afternoon, but seeing as how events have moved past me, the rest of today will be spent determining how to undo all the damage I might have caused with ‘father’s’ bad advice.”

~

The four travelers met with the king the next morning, and were told the king would send an escort to take them to the Grillan border.

“My ministers are extremely upset,” King Bingador said. “I can’t say how much Okora owes you, but you will accept free passage through my country with a little extra to get you to Collet in Ginster.

Trevor kept quiet and let the king, Brother Yvan, and Reena talk for a bit. Trevor didn’t think the existence of the magician would be publicized, but Seer Deepen had told them that the magician had committed suicide in a jail cell before they could question the man. The Okorans told Seer Deepen that all they could tell from the magician’s effects was that all evidence pointed to Maskum.

How far could the tentacles go? Trevor thought. Had the Maskumites infiltrated every country of the world? He didn’t think so, but Trevor guessed there were plenty of tentacles.

They needed a wagon for the additional goods the Okoran king had given them as a reward. Lissa agreed with Trevor that they didn’t want to be slowed up by having a wagon in the party. There were inns enough so they could travel lighter.

“We can go through the goods tonight,” Brother Yvan said. “Then we can sell the wagon and what we don’t need.”

“Gold is portable,” Lissa said. “At least we can take a packhorse.”

“As long as that is the limit,” Brother Yvan said.

They traveled to their next destination and sold all kinds of gifts that were worth a surprisingly large amount of gold. Trevor was glad that the horse they chose to carry their possessions wouldn’t be unduly burdened.

Ten royal guards and an officer accompanied them through the country along the same road that they had used traveling to Tiralina. The officer spent time with each of them getting a full picture of their experience with the brigands and with the constable’s office. When they reached the crossroads, they still headed north until they stopped at the Grillan border.

“We will be gathering evidence in the town where you stayed just after the unfortunate attack occurred,” the officer said. The man suddenly grinned. “I don’t know what you’ve done, but the king never paid attention to the Northern Road before. He always said it was too far away from the throne for him to be concerned about it. I will admit, that wasn’t my opinion. Thank you.”

The detachment saluted and headed back.

“Another good deed by Dryden’s messenger,” Brother Yvan said.

“It was all four of us,” Trevor said.

“Then it was a good deed by the four of us, but nothing would have happened if you hadn’t seen that Maskumite magician,” Reena said. “Your Dryden appointment has already achieved wonderful results.”

Trevor growled. “I haven’t really accepted anything yet. I want to be the duke of Listenwell, but I agreed to think about being the messenger.” He glanced at a frowning Lissa.

“There is no ‘think’ allowed. Dryden has done the calling, not the head seer,” she said. “First things first. You complete your messenger duties until you are no longer needed, and then you can return to Listenwell.”

Trevor sighed. Everyone was right, and he knew it. He thought back to his tower in Tarviston castle and realized he was getting close to returning to the attitude he had before he met Desolation Boxster. That wouldn’t do, he told himself.

Chapter Five

~

G rilla was a country with a paucity of resources. It sat on a plateau with thin soil and rocky terrain. There were undulating hills, and long ago, whoever ruled Grilla decided it would grow apples and grapes. From then on, Grilla evolved into a primary provider of alcoholic products from ciders to wine, and later, distilled spirits using grains grown in eastern Okora.

With the intense specialization, Grilla’s culture had developed into the opposite of Viksar’s. Where Viksar was disciplined, Grilla was lax. Alcohol production was lucrative, Brother Yvan had taught Trevor when he was younger.

Trevor hadn’t had the chance to travel through Grilla from Viksar. He would do so now, sampling the unique wares of Grilla as they went. Since they were on an extension of the Okoran Northern Road, they were in the midst of many travelers.

“Nothing is as good as Zinkel’s ale,” Brother Yvan said, “although the stuff brewed in Parkintown comes close. However, for harder spirits, Grilla produces the best for the volume they make. You probably didn’t notice, but most of the wine sold in the surrounding countries is produced in Grilla, but the best vines are produced in the southern half of the country where it is warmer. We will be traveling through apple country.”

“Don’t other trees grow here?”

“None produce the kind of money that apples do,” Brother Yvan said with a smile.

Mostly apples. Trevor remembered the apples raised in Bergartin in Viksar. “I can understand that. One of the villages Volst and I traveled through had an apple festival.”

“Every day is an apple festival in northern Grilla,” Brother Yvan said. “Wait until we are at the