Kendra peeked under his shirt, examined his legs and arms, and searched his head with her fingers feeling through his hair. She said while doing those things, “I do not believe he was an evil man. He helped keep the dragon prisoner, but he didn’t like it. More a victim of circumstance than design.”
“Why is he dead?” I asked.
“The other mages. They did it. I can’t tell you how or why, but a young man does not simply die for no reason.”
“If they can kill him at a distance, can they do it to us too?” My voice trembled, and I made no attempt to control it.
“Yes,” she said. “I believe they can. Perhaps not directly, but remember, mages can communicate with their minds over great distances. They may also attack. I don’t know.”
The chill in the chamber turned colder.
CHAPTER SIX
W e paused at the chair on the way out and spoke to the old man, again interrupting a nap in his demanding day. A coin or two changed hands, and he assured us the mage would be properly cared for. We provided the little we knew of the man for his records, the name, homeland, and we guessed how he would prefer to rest for eternity. We had found nothing of value in our examination except the indirect knowledge that he had died without wounds, without bleeding, and alone.
Kendra said to the old man just as we were about to leave, “You told me I wouldn’t find what I was looking for. What was that about?”
His eyes moved to her, then drifted off as he said, “I heard he was a mage. The man had nothing. Not a tool, weapon, coin, or personal belonging. Very odd. He didn’t appear as if he’d been ill. There were no wounds. Whatever caused his death and why he died are not with his body. You won’t find the answers here.”
In the entire city, there seemed nothing else we wished to see in our morose moods. There were no historical districts, sights of natural wonders, or places mentioned in the schools where we’d studied. It was simply a village that had outgrown itself to become a dull, small city located on the route to other places.
At the weapons shop again, late in the day, we found the shopkeeper smiling and waiting anxiously for us. He had modified the scabbards for Kendra and showed them to her, first. The original scabbards had been larger, built for a man. The new ones were narrower, the straps thinner, and they had small buckles instead of ties. Each fitted on the inside of her forearms, and her new loose sleeves permitted easy and fast access.
The two of them played with his constructions as children play with new toys on their day of birth. While she wore them, I saw no sign of their bulk or presence on her arms to indicate they were hidden below her sleeves. She moved naturally. With a swift motion, her right hand seemingly brushed innocently against her left arm, and a knife appeared as if by magic. The motion smoothly continued, as she brought the knife to her right ear and threw—all so fast it was hard to follow as it spun and struck the target.
The stuffed pillow wore a blade, one stuck side embedded straight in. She reached for the other knife and fumbled. That blade fell to the floor as her feet danced out of the way to avoid being stabbed.
“You’re going to have to practice with your off-hand,” the shopkeeper laughed.
Kendra didn’t. She scowled as she picked the blade up off the wood floor and replaced it in the scabbard on her right forearm. After shaking her sleeve down to cover it, she paused as if seeing something deserving of her attention, and in a swift move, reached for the knife. This time, she held it firmly in the center as she shifted it to her right hand and cocked her arm to throw.
It didn’t stick, but from where it struck, a slash as long as a finger appeared and the ends of yellow straw inside poked free. No, it wouldn’t have killed, but the recipient would bleed—just as the shopkeeper had promised.
“Use your wrist as you throw to get more spin. The faster it does, the more chance it will slice something.” He turned to me with a wide smile. A thin cover of dark material was spread over my sword, and he swept it away as if performing in a traveling sideshow. The familiar scabbard looked little different, at first. However, on the rear side, a thin tube of matching leather had been sewn. The four arrows were a tight fit, presumably so they would not spill out at every opportunity. The fletched ends were situated just below the handle of the sword where they would cause no problems when reaching for it instead of the arrows.
The bow was presented to me unstrung, encased in a soft leather scabbard with straps for one shoulder, and a loose belt for my waist so I could bend, sit, or stand without adjustment. Once buckled, the bow rode at an angle from my left hip to right shoulder. I reached for the end of it and tugged. The bow didn’t move.
“Just like a broadsword, you have to lift it free before pulling it forward. It will take two hands or awkward lifting with one.”
I tried again. It came halfway and no more. He shoved it back into place and gripped my wrist. After pulling it part of the way up, he slid my hand down the bow and pulled it the rest of the way. When it reached a certain point, leverage allowed me to pull it forward, and the rest of the way free. A few practice-pulls later and I’d found the trick.
Kendra watched and learned, then placed payment on the counter. She said wryly, “You should be paying me, do you know that?”
“You’re the one wishing to purchase better weapons,” he said defensively. “I charge well for those, but they are the highest quality.”
As in the same manner as when trying to start a fight with me, she said to him in a soft, convincing tone, “But you’re the one who benefits the most. Not only do I pay you, but when Princess Elizabeth arrives here and sees these wonderful creations of yours, she will order you to travel to Crestfallen Castle to make her the same, and probably others. I assume she will also provide you with the authority to begin marking your weapons with the King’s Seal on them as an official appointment. You’ll find each of your weapons will sell for twice what you now charge, perhaps more with the royal seal.”
His face had paled as she spoke. He had no idea that might happen—and my sister was enjoying herself. In my estimation, he hadn’t believed us when we’d mentioned we served the princess. He did now. I put a string on the bow, bent it to fit the other end, and made a test-pull. My actions were clumsy but overall felt good. He had a second quiver to wear on my belt. There was not a place to practice, although I looked longingly at the straw target Kendra had used. An arrow would have gone through like it wasn’t there and buried itself in the wall.
We were loaded down with our purchases. After reaching the inn, we decided to eat and listen to a man with a lute and a soft voice sing in the dining room. Shortly after dark I begged off and went to my room while still thinking about the girl with the red hair.
A gentle knock on my door turned more insistent and finally woke me.
Kendra stuck her head in and hissed, “A mage is at the Waystone at the dragon’s cave.”
I shuddered. “Do we have to climb up there again? In the dark?”
“Maybe. Or, since he appeared up there, what if we let him walk down the stairs and catch him alone at the base or on the road?”