Once outside the city gate, Gaufrid and Bertran cantered up to Rick, leading Flame. “Your wing-boy was shouting to everyone that the Spikonians are here,” Gaufrid said, handing Rick Flame’s reins. “Jarvis is getting the wagon and the other horses and will meet us on the road.”
“Other horses?”
Bertran shrugged. “Rogerin told us yesterday to be ready. We are.” He smiled and rubbed his unshaved cheek. “You promised us adventure, Aldric of Red River, and great mountains. You sure have delivered on that.”
As a few soldiers jogged towards them, it was obvious that Geoffrey had also commanded his men to fetch their own horses and the wagons they’d prepared.
Rick’s overstuffed pack was tied behind Flame’s saddle. He didn’t ask what was inside. It didn’t matter. They were leaving. Everyone’s horses also carried overstuffed packs. Rick mounted his stallion.
“Where’s Synne?” Rick asked.
No one answered. Jarvis turned up a corner of his mouth and shrugged as if he didn’t care. Rick knew otherwise. She was good at looking out for herself. He wouldn’t be surprised if the next time he heard of her, she was in Spikonia sidling up to King Baal.
“Is Hobbie all right?” Rick asked, searching for him beyond the others. The last he’d seen of the youngest of his thieves was in the city square, with an ax bouncing off his wrist.
“He’s not mad at you,” Bertran said. But why would he be?
Flame stomped his feet, sensing the excitement in the air. Rick urged him forward until they caught up to Neighbor and Geoffrey, now on his own horse, leading the way northward to their king. Behind them were nearly all of the soldiers who had worked on the Bottoms wall, as well as Victor and the Farhnerians who had been in the first line of the Spikonian attack. Rogerin and Anna led the magicians up from the smoldering garbage pit. They were trailed by a horde of other people, all in their red caps, tunics, and capes.
Eri flew ahead of them, with Bob chasing after, until they reached Rick and Geoffrey.
“What now, General?” Eri asked Rick once he landed, bending one wing far over his forehead in a kind of salute.
“Stop calling me that,” Rick answered. “Unicorn Keeper—or unicorn friend—is all I am.”
“Bbrrrh,” Neighbor said. “Might I suggest, Friend, that Eri fly ahead to discover if the Spikonians have sent a contingent heading south in order to surround Barabook on all sides. It is what I would have advised them were I on their side.”
Geoffrey nodded in agreement, and Ricky touched Eri’s feathered shoulder. “I’m sorry I gave you wings. I am. But you know that we couldn’t have been here, all of us, safe, without your new eyesight and abilities.”
Eri flushed. “It’s not just me,” he said. “We all want the same thing, and will follow you anywhere.” He took a few running steps, pumping his wings. As he lifted from the ground he added, “General.”
The giant ran after Eri.
“Bob!” Geoffrey called out. “Stay with us. Your friend will return, and we need you here, and not worn out.”
“You…need me?” Bob answered, his shoulders and jaw dropping.
“When the enemy sees your massive size,” Neighbor added, “it will give them hesitation. You are a positive asset.”
“Did you hear that?” Bob said, grinning. He patted Jarvis on the head—and Jarvis was sitting on a horse. “I’m a positive asset, whatever that means.”
As the fog lifted and the sounds of battle rang out behind him—metal against metal, people shouting and screaming—Rick forced himself to turn his back on it all and face forward, one hoof in front of the other. He needed to focus on the reason they were leaving, on the mission, the rescue. His king. His father. His sister. His friends.
We’re coming, he willed to them. Soon, Father. Soon.
* * *
A few soldiers waited next to a barn. When Rick and Geoffrey reached them, the men disappeared inside and came out with wagons and more horses. Several of Geoffrey’s men mounted up, while others helped the wounded either onto horses or into the horse-drawn wagons. From a pen next to the barn, they drove a small herd of six cattle along with several goats. A family of nine and two barking dogs exited the farmhouse. Each person wore a pack. The father pushed a small cart with two of the smallest children sitting atop bundles.
As they passed other farms, at first the residents slammed the shutters tightly, but as the procession passed, some country folk left their houses to join the group, some driving their lowing cows, bleating goats and sheep ahead of them. Squealing pigs and clucking chickens came, too, riding in horse-drawn wagons with their owners, probably intended originally to take to market. Perhaps the citizens felt the army was retreating from the burning city, and joining them would mean them protecting them.
Sounds of battle rose up the hill. Rick couldn’t resist. He turned in his saddle. Many of the buildings closest to the shore as well as the river docks were engulfed in flame, along with all the Farhnerian merchant ships. He didn’t need a unicorn’s prediction to know what would happen in Barabook. He could see it now through the smoke. Barabook was burning. The mounting, swirling cloud of black and yellow and orange opened a pit in Rick’s chest. Even now he was torn between rushing north to rescue his king and turning back to help fight the Spikonians.
“Do you see them, Aldric?” Neighbor asked, rubbing her nose against Flame’s.
“The destruction and dying?” Rick responded.
“Look again, Boy. The hopeful and the living.”
Behind Rick’s band of three and the two companies of soldiers and wagons, came not only the magicians and the farmers, but it seemed as if the entire Bottoms had emptied out in a long and wide human river, all fleeing the wealthy city of Barabook in order to join the caravan. In their Bottoms-marked clothing, they looked like a sea of red, a northward current flowing through their land towards their captured king.
“Have you noticed how similar their color is to our dragon?” Neighbor asked.
Our dragon? Rick grinned at the thought of any dragon being owned. “It is odd, isn’t it?” he answered. “She told Eri to tell me to head north. Perhaps she is part unicorn, too, and predicted and has claimed the red for herself?”
“Part unicorn?” Neighbor repeated, obviously insulted. He reached over and grabbed her mane, giving it a playful tug. “Bbbhrr,” she said and pulled her head away.
He was not ashamed of his connection to Nomi nor to Graelle. He reached into his pack, and sure enough, there on the top was his cape, the one Nomi had made for him. He didn’t need it for warmth at the moment, but somehow wearing it made him feel more certain, more dragon-y, as if a dragon-raised princess could have magically woven courage and determination into each thread.
His half-band of thieves also pulled out their capes.
By late afternoon, a tired Eri returned to report that he’d spotted no Spikonians between here and Nimrock. He rubbed his right shoulder, as if remembering where and how he got his first wing, there in the destroyed castle. As useful as having a bird-boy was, Rick still wished he could give Eri his human arms back. Maybe he’d use one of his half-prince unicorn wishes on him, after the rescue. Eri quickly fell asleep in one of the wagons, with Bob walking alongside.
Geoffrey marched them until dusk, stopping while there was still enough light to set up camp and eat. If they had only soldiers with them, they would have marched through the night, but already many of the civilians were complaining of the long walk, and asking how far they were going, and when they could return, and what was there to eat?
“My advice to you, Magician,” Neighbor said as they made camp, “is to know your plan and plan to execute it. Then put one hoof in front of the other.”
Rick sighed. “I only have a vague plan. Rescue the king and my family and all the other Farhnerians from the dungeon. I’m not sure how I’ll execute that.”
“You are not alone,” she said.
“Yes, I know I have you, my friend, but these people…they marched well with the fear of destruction pushing from behind. But tomorrow will be different. Plus, they’ll be hungry.”
The soldiers and Rick’s band of thieves had prepared dried traveling food for the journey, but it was not enough for the entire caravan. Some had left Barabook without taking any food at all, especially those from the Bottoms.
Rick discovered more money in his pack than he recalled having, so he bought a goat from one of the farmers. Neighbor followed him with Flame as he sought out the magicians, sulking together in a circle. Three of the very young children in the group rolled a blue light ball back and forth between them. Rick approached Rogerin and Lydia, and saw that Ian had joined the magicians now, sitting on the ground next to Lydia. He rose and nodded an acknowledgment to Rick. Lydia stood and looked at Rick with hopeful eyes, then moved to wrap her arms around the unicorn.
“What is your plan?” she asked, stroking Neighbor’s neck.
“The same as always,” Rick answered. He held out the goat’s lead rope to Anna. “This will be enough for you, probably through the next couple of days. And perhaps enough to share with others as well.”
Rogerin snorted and rubbed his beard. “Even the Ordinaries in the Bottoms stay away from us magicians. They’d probably think our food was an illusion or a trick and wouldn’t take it.”
Rick and Rogerin linked eyes. Rogerin was the oldest in the group and there was a lot about his past which no one knew, but the other magicians seemed to accept him and Anna as their leaders, Master and Mistress of the Magician’s Guild.
Rick was disappointed for people who didn’t want help from certain people. It was difficult to help others when their attitudes didn’t change. He thought of his own attitude in the past towards Spikonians. But they were magicians, called by their gifts to rise above that. And their gifts were going to free the captives.
Ian swiftly butchered the goat, and another magician started a fire. Eri and Bob showed up with the magicians, perhaps sniffing out food. Gaufrid, Jarvis, and Bertran were there as well.
“Have you seen Hobbie?” Rick asked.
“He’s not mad at you,” Lydia said.
“You’re the second person to tell me that. Why would he be mad?”
Lydia stuck a hand on her hip and shook her head. “You can be so stupid with your magic, Aldric of Red River.”
Magic? He rolled his eyes. What went wrong with his magic this time? Hadn’t he been successful with saving Hobbie’s hand from getting chopped off?
“Hi, Boss,” came a quiet voice. Hobbie stepped out from behind Rogerin, a tan leather glove covered one of his hands. “I’m not mad at you.”
“So I’ve heard.” Rick cocked his head and frowned. “Did the ax…do damage? You mean…I didn’t stop it in time?” His hand was gloved, but the fingers looked solid enough. Hobbie removed the glove. His hand was a little shiny in the firelight perhaps, but whole, and still connected to his arm. And there hadn’t been blood spilt in the square at the time.
“Oh, nothing like that, Boss,” Hobbie answered, slipping his arm out of the sling. Using his left hand, he used his dagger to give his right hand a whack. It rang like metal. “You see, from here” —he poked the flesh midway down his forearm with the hilt of the dagger— “to here” —he stabbed his claw-shaped fist, each soft blow accompanied by a soft clink— “it’s, er…let’s just say no one will ever be able to cut off this hand. Ever.”
Rick swallowed hard. Yet another magical mistake with a person. Why couldn’t he learn to be more specific with his spells?
“You realize,” Neighbor said, “that if you can not undo your spells, Hobbie would make a great warrior.”
“Ha!” Hobbie raised his metal hand. “I could be a great warrior.” He slashed his fist diagonally through the air with such energy that the force spun him around.
“You need to learn how to fix your mistakes,” Lydia said, poking Rick’s arm.
The only one Rick knew who could undo a magician’s spell, besides the magician who had cast it, was Graelle the Red, but he didn’t think Hobbie’s arm could withstand the heat of a dragon’s breath. He also had no idea where Graelle was at the moment, or when or if she would show up again. She was, after all, a dragon.
While waiting for the meat to cook, and even while eating, several of the magicians were anxious to show Ricky twists on the magic they knew.
“Rogerin knows a lot of magic,” Anna said, flashing the man a shy grin. “He’s demonstrated a new thing or two and got everyone showing off, and then teaching the others the spells they knew but kept to themselves. He’s brought us magicians together unlike anything before. I think we should to be ready to face your Alyse when it comes time.”
His Alyse. His nemesis, rather.
“Rick, have you seen this?” asked a magician, sending a blanket of twinkling lights over their circle, lighting them up nearly as bright as day.
“Tone it down,” shouted another, covering her eyes. The first magician then dimmed the lights. “I know a love spell, too,” she added, blinking her eyes at Rick. “But I’ll need water and certain herbs.
“So this is where you’re hiding the unicorn,” someone said from outside the circle. “There are more people back there she needs to heal. Why are you hogging it?”
“Her,” Rick corrected. “Magic is tiring and she’s tired. Besides, she’s her own magical creature and comes and goes as she pleases. One moment she’s here, and the next…” At that last word, he waved a camouflage spell over Neighbor. The speaker gasped and looked around, but all the magicians simply smiled or cast their eyes downward so as not to laugh. Ordinaries could be so easily fooled, but Rick knew the magicians saw a blurred outline of a unicorn where Neighbor stood. After the Ordinary left, grumbling about things not being fair, Rick ran his fingers through Neighbor’s invisible mane. “My friend,” he said, “I think it would be best if you remain here in this circle for now, under the protection of these fine people.”
“Oh, yes!” Lydia said, jumping to her feet and approaching Neighbor.
“There are plans to make,” Neighbor protested. “Soldiers to organize. A war council to attend. Not to mention the rescue of King Segan and the other magicians. I am no colt, you know.”
“We need you for all that,” Rick said. “And for it, you need rest. As do I.”
“Bbbhr,” she answered, continuing her protest.
“We’ll take good care of you,” Lydia said, planting a kiss on Neighbor’s invisible nose. “I promise.”
Although Rick, too, wanted to confer with Geoffrey about plans, that could wait until morning. They all needed rest, not just for their bodies, but so their minds could work out the rescue.
Rick and Neighbor remained with the magicians for the rest of that night. He wanted Neighbor to help him train Flame to be a soldier’s mount, if they had time, to learn to lay down on command and be still, and in battle to kick with his hind hooves, to bite. They could use all the help and training they could get.