The Severed Empire Collection

Chapter 11

Mykal lay on the bed, his eyes open, but seemed to stare at nothing.

“Is he breathing?” Grandfather said. His chair was parked beside the bed. He held his grandson’s hand in his own.

Blodwyn quickly cleared items off the nightstand, and set down his small leather bag. He loosened the purse strings and dug inside. “He’s breathing. It’s shallow, but he is breathing. His body has slipped into shock. We need more blankets. He must be kept warm.”

Grandfather wheeled himself out of the room in search of blankets.

Someone knocked on the front door.

“We can’t be disturbed,” Blodwyn shouted. He lifted a clear jar from the bag and held it up to the candlelight. It had a piece of leather tied over the mouth as a lid, and was filled with bugs, like tiny creatures that resembled insect-sized lobster tails. “Send whoever it is away!”

“He needs to heal himself.” It was a woman’s voice.

Blodwyn glanced over his shoulder, ready to order the intruder out of the house. Her presence caught him off guard. Before him stood a woman, and aside from a purple gem hanging from a silver necklace, she was n***d and stunningly beautiful. Her hair was green like blades of grass, curly, and hung just below her breasts. Her flawless skin was creamy pale, but it was her violet eyes with sapphire rims and black irises that held his stare.

Grandfather sat behind her at the bedchamber threshold, blankets piled atop his lap. “I tried to tell her to leave.”

“We’ve no time to argue. The blankets, quickly,” Blodwyn said. His eyes on the woman, as he held out his hand.

The woman took the blankets from Grandfather, walked into the room, and handed them over. “He needs to heal himself.”

“You must be the mysterious woman Mykal met this afternoon.” Blodwyn unfolded the blankets over Mykal’s body, and then untied the string removing the leather lid from the jar.

“What are those?” Grandfather said. He tucked the blankets around his grandson’s feet.

Blodwyn scooped bugs from the jar and hovered over Mykal for a moment before dropping a few of the insects into Mykal’s mouth. “These are cymothoa. Tongue biters. You most often find them living inside the mouths of fish. They’re parasites. They attach themselves to a fish’s tongue and suck blood from their host. They can grow quite large. The ones in this jar are an inch long, or less. In the sea they can grow several feet. They are most difficult to remove. Eventually the host’s tongue will die and fall away, and the cymothoa will act as the new tongue for the fish.”

Grandfather grunted, then groaned, “Why on earth are you putting them in my grandson’s mouth?”

“The poison from the cuts is traveling through his body. The more poison that reaches his brain, the more dangerous his infection becomes. These tongue biters will interfere with the blood flow and ingest the poison,” Blodwyn said.

“He needs to heal himself,” the n***d woman said.

“Please, I have no idea who you are. I am not sure why you are here. This young boy needs medical attention. His life is in serious danger. Serious danger! You’re not helping the situation at all. I am going to have to ask you to leave,” Blodwyn said. He’d raised his voice, and seemed uncomfortable with having done so. He was unable to keep eye contact, but looking anywhere else seemed inappropriate. “Now please, let us be. I am trying to save my friend’s life.”

“How long will it take to work?” Grandfather pointed at Blodwyn’s jar.

“We may have to wait until morning before we notice much of a change.” Blodwyn rested a hand on Mykal’s shoulder. “One way or the other, we will know something by morning.”

“Mykal,” the woman said. “You must heal yourself. I know you hear me. You can rid your body of the poison inside your blood. You do not need parasites to cleanse you. You can just as easily—”

“That is enough!” Blodwyn put out his hands. He spun the woman around. “You must leave.”

“But what if she’s right?” It was grandfather.

Blodwyn bit down on his upper lip. “Who are you?” he said to the woman.

“My name’s Galatia.”

Blodwyn’s brow furrowed. He eyed the n***d woman suspiciously. She was either lying, or cared nothing for Grey Ashland law. King Grandeer had launched a war against magic, executing wizards across the empire—back when there was a united empire. The decree held sway from king to king continuing the outlaw of magic, with substantial rewards offered for information that led to the capture of anyone caught using magic or claiming to be a wizard.

“Galatia, the Wizard?” he said.

WizardShe c****d her head to one side. “You’ve heard of me?”

He had heard of one named Galatia. “I know of her. Most do. She perished nearly two centuries ago at the hands of Kind Grandeer.”

The woman winced as though Blodwyn’s words had cut her with sharpened-steel edges. “That man cannot still be on the throne?”

Blodwyn slowly shook his head. “He’s not. His grandson is king. You want us to believe you’re the same Galatia from two hundred years ago?”

“In the flesh.” She held her arms out, palms up, as if announcing, here I am. “Now, unless you feel a pressing need to ask more questions, I would like to return to Mykal’s room. I need to speak with him some more.”

here I am“But he can’t hear you,” Grandfather said.

“Yes, he can. He can hear everything we’ve said. Blodwyn was correct in assessing the danger of the Isthmian Serpent’s dorsal. The poison, even in small doses, can be lethal. What the poison does is paralyze prey. They become like a log, unable to move limbs, and muscles. His eyes are open, so trust me, he can see. He can also hear, which is why I need to continue speaking to him. Do I have your permission to do so?”

Blodwyn saw conflict in Grandfather’s eyes. If word got out Galatia was inside his house, the king would send knights and have the old man arrested. In the dungeons Grandfather would be tortured. The dungeon master would force a confession that both he and Mykal were also using magic. They would be put to death in the courtyard for all of Grey Ashland to witness.

also “You already know you can trust me in this. You have my word, no one will know,” Blodwyn said to grandfather. “What happens tonight will stay between us.”

“You remain a good friend, Wyn. You have always been loyal to this family. I thought for sure when my daughter-in-law was…taken, and my son ran off, I’d have seen the last of you. Instead you’ve remained a part of Mykal’s life as though a blood relative. For that, I have always felt gratitude,” Grandfather said.

Blodwyn kept too many secrets to be completely truthful with the old man. It was expedient to accept the compliment, and move forward. “Thank you, sir. Being a part of your lives has been a blessing to me.”

“And the boy? May I?” Galatia said. “I do not think we’ve much time before his life is too far gone to save.”

Blodwyn nodded his approval.

“How is he going to heal himself?” Grandfather said. He looked shaken, his head wobbled and lips trembled. “Why do she keep saying that? I don’t understand. I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

Blodwyn sat in the main room with Grandfather. Galatia was with Mykal in his room. While he’d rather be in there, a witness to whatever happened, he knew Grandfather needed him more at the moment. The man deserved answers.

“You know something, Blodwyn. There’s no need in denying it. I saw it in your eyes tonight. More than once.” Grandfather sat rigid in his chair. His fingers laced, knuckles white. His mouth kept working even after he stopped speaking, as if there was more he wanted to say.

Outside, thunder rumbled over the Isthmian. The storm would strike soon. As the rain began to fall, the intermittent drops sounded like a box of carpenter nails being erratically emptied onto the cabin’s tin roof. It then transitioned into a steadier din.

“It’s really coming down now,” Blodwyn said.

“Please,” Grandfather said. “My grandson is all I have left. He is my only family. I can’t lose him. I can’t. There’s only so much an old man’s heart can take.”

Blodwyn sat on a chair facing the old man, gripping with both hands the staff between his legs. He kept an ear focused on the woman’s voice, her words just barely audible to his attuned hearing. “I knew your daughter-in-law before she fell in love with your son.”

“You did? You knew Anna before my son?” Mykal’s grandfather looked uneasy. He shifted his weight in his chair. His hands unclasped and fidgeted with the blanket over his legs. He lifted it, and replaced it on his lap, tucking one end around his stump.

“I knew Anna, and Anna’s family quite well.” Blodwyn didn’t want to lie. He knew some things needed revealing. He didn’t want to volunteer more than necessary. He feared it would be near-impossible to keep secrets much longer, though. Getting answers to questions didn’t always makes things better. Ignorance was sometimes preferable to knowledge. The toughest thing was to convince those who didn’t have specific knowledge, that they truly did not want it; that they would be happier left in the dark.

“Were you a part of her family?”

Blodwyn shook his head. “I was not related. I was her teacher.”

He could see Grandfather slowly absorb that bit of information. He knew inside the old man’s brain wheels turned like those on his chair, trying to get from one place to another. There couldn’t be enough pieces in place for Grandfather to get there yet, but it wouldn’t take much more. Mykal and Blodwyn had spent time together nearly every day, rarely missing a single one, since the day Mykal had been born.

“Teacher? I don’t understand.”

Blodwyn leaned forward. He knew that except for Galatia and Mykal they were alone inside the house, and that the steadily falling rain and occasional crash of thunder would drown out the sound of his voice should anyone be nearby to listen. Still, he felt uncomfortable speaking above a whisper. “There were the rumors,” he said.

“There are always rumors,” Grandfather said.

“Anna, your daughter-in-law, was like Galatia.”

Grandfather, who seemed to have been holding his breath sighed. He sat back in his wheeled chair and laughed. Blodwyn retained his grip on his staff, but never blinked, and never looked away from the other man’s eyes.

It didn’t take long before the weight of his words overwhelmed Grandfather’s mirth. The old man’s shoulders began to shake. The tears brimmed from his bottom eyelids. “Eadric’s Anna? She really did know magic?”

“She … was a wizard,” Blodwyn said. It somehow still surprised him that such news could bring devastation to some people, although it shouldn’t considering the laws still around against such things. One could choose to practice magic, but such learning was limited. Students of magic focused their studies perfecting one element of the craft. The books provided insight and guidelines. Magic could be learned, and used by those born without the spark, but was not nearly as effective or as dangerous as most suspected, or as King Grandeer once feared.

Wizards were different. Wizards were born. One couldn’t choose to become a wizard.

“Don’t let that diminish your memory of the woman,” Blodwyn said.

Grandfather licked dry lips. “I just don’t know how I was blind to it. I feel like it’s something I should have known, should have been able to detect.”

“She was skilled at keeping her abilities secret. She knew revealing who she was, what she was, endangered everyone she loved and cared about. She rarely used her powers.”

“Eadric?”

“He knew.”

“And you? Are you a wizard?”

Finally, Blodwyn was able to laugh. “I am not a wizard. I know very little about how magic works.” He stood up. “Perhaps I should make some tea. I believe none of us will get any sleep tonight. We might as well have some caffeine to assist us through the vigil.”

“Yes. That sounds good,” Grandfather said.

Blodwyn didn’t need to be told where anything was. He was as comfortable in Grandfather’s house as he was his own.

“You said you were Anna’s teacher. If it wasn’t magic you taught, then what?” Grandfather whispered the word ‘magic’ as if it were part of an evil curse, and saying it out loud would inflict damage on anyone close enough to hear.

“The eradication King Grandeer started may have ended long ago, but the crusade against magic and wizards was an ongoing one, even still to this day. King Grandeer created a special and of the most elite knights and called them the Watch. Their sole purpose was to travel across the kingdom in search of people with powers. They were given full reign over their finds. They could arrest, try, sentence, and carry out an execution. No one would question their actions, unless they wanted trouble. There had been stories of people falsely accused of magic. It became something of an epidemic at one point. Few were safe from the pointing of a finger, or the whisper in a tavern. If the Watch caught wind, either accidentally, or on purpose, their terror over the land was unleashed. Making a spectacle of their proceedings was how they operated. They thrived on fear.

“Grandeer’s son, King Stilson hosted many similar hunts, and sent his knights to the other realms under the old empire. Their sole purpose was flushing out magicians and wizards. King Nabal has done the same. Anytime there is even a rumor of magic, Nabal reacts with a show of force to apprehend and eliminate the threat. You won’t see wizard’s being hung in the court. Nabal doesn’t want anything magic inside his kingdom’s borders, or anywhere in the old empire at all if he can help it. He doesn’t even want people realizing it still exists. He, like his grandfather, declared that anyone who practices magic to even heal illness would be considered as guilty as a murderer. Like I said, the Watch act as judge and executioner on the road, the further away from Grey Ashland, the better. But you know all of this. We’re not that different in age. We’ve seen our share of bloodshed, both justified and otherwise.” Blodwyn lit a flame under the iron rack and set a water-filled kettle above it. “I was hired by Anna’s parents to protect her from such crusaders, and to do more than that.”

“More?”

“I taught her to defend herself without the use of magic,” Blodwyn said. He removed two mugs from a cupboard and set them by the kettle. “She learned how to handle staff, sword, and knives. She learned how to fight using her hands, her feet, her teeth, and most importantly her mind. How to think her way out of situations that seemed dire. I have done the same these last seventeen years with Mykal. At Anna’s request.”

Grandfather nodded. Although he didn’t yawn, the dark bags under his eyes showed how tired the man was. “That’s why Mykal keeps his weapons stashed in some old tree.”

“You know about the tree?”

He laughed. “Of course I know about the tree. Figured he’s a boy. Who doesn’t want a sword, and daggers? Only thing he’s ever shown me is that bow of his. Because it’s practical, I suppose.”

Blodwyn waited. If Grandfather had more questions, required more clarification, he’d ask. Otherwise, enough pieces of the puzzle had been provided.

Filling the mugs with grass tea, Blodwyn offered one to Grandfather.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the offered mug. He cupped it in both hands, as if soothing a chill in his bones. “And Mykal, he inherited his mother’s…gift?”

“I hadn’t seen any sign to indicate it. He’s never demonstrated any extraordinary abilities. Everything he’s accomplished appears to have been without the use of magic. He’s a fine young man. Strong, brave. You should be proud,” Blodwyn said.

“But you think he is also a wizard?” Grandfather said.

think“I am not certain. I have kept a close eye on him. I’ve watched for any sign that might indicate he possessed such power. I’m being honest with you when I say he has never exhibited so much as magical sneeze in front of me. Nor has he come to me perplexed by something odd that may have happened. Anna, for example, would lose her temper, normal tantrums any teenager might throw, except that when she did, vases would shatter around her, or tables would tip.” He sipped his grass tea, and cringed. It burned his tongue. He blew on the tea as he sat back in his chair across from the older man. “She didn’t willfully destroy things. She just hadn’t yet learned to harness her emotions, or how to control her abilities. The magic was always in her, but like any talent she was required to religiously practice and continually hone the skill. It was imperative she do so. Otherwise by the time she reached adulthood she’d have been a danger to, not just herself but, those around her.”

talent “You said you didn’t think Mykal was a wizard until tonight. Why is tonight different?” Grandfather hadn’t taken a sip of his tea. Blodwyn suspected the tea would go cold, and be left on the table forgotten. It served as a prop, something he could do with his hands.

“Galatia may not be everything she claims. I haven’t decided if I trust her just yet. There is something about her, though. It makes me wonder. I’m inclined to believe most of what she is saying, but I am reserved,” he said. More truths. “I don’t know where she’s been all these years. Hiding, no doubt. Times were different back then. Emperor Rye was in charge of four kingdoms united as one. King Grandeer was Rye’s favorite among the monarchs, and after the death of his son, was sometimes given too much freedom to do as he wished. Everything is different now. Two of the kingdoms are completely gone, and as you know, the Osiris Realm is across the sea, but always a viable threat to our way of life. So, I am not sure why she’s chosen to come out of hiding now, to make herself known to us today. It makes me wonder if she has been close all along, perhaps in the shadows watching events unfold? Has she, like me, been keeping an eye on Mykal for some time?”

“You have questions, too,” Grandfather said. It was a statement.

Blodwyn nodded and allowed himself a thin smile. “I do. And like you, I am somewhat fearful of the truths which might be uncovered. What I do know, without even speaking to Galatia again, is that everything is about to change. There is something unnatural about coincidences. I don’t believe in them.”

It was silent in Mykal’s room. His conversation with Grandfather had been so involved, that he could not recall the last time he’d heard Galatia speaking. Curiosity ate at his insides like a dog gnawing on a bone. He desperately wanted to join them and see and hear what was taking place.

Giving the sorcerer time alone with Mykal wasn’t easy. He walked over to the door and listened, before opening the door. Inside, Galatia stood by the foot of the bed. Mykal’s body was covered in a sheen of sweat, but he was safe. He let that be enough for now. He gently closed the door and returned to the table.

He tried to settle down and relax. Anxiety served no purpose, whatever had happened behind the closed door was done, it seemed. All that was left was the waiting. “Something must be coming, but how do we prepare for the unknown? I want to be honest with you, Grandfather,” Blodwyn said. Knowing Anna is a wizard, and with the arrival of Galatia, Blodwyn had little doubt. “Mykal is a wizard.”