Juxta, Magi Read online

  Juxta, Magi

  Blood of Lynken I

  Version 3.27

  By Geoffrey C Porter

  Version 3.27

  Copyright 2012, Geoffrey C Porter

  All rights reserved.

  Library Of Congress: TXu001216583

  An Untied Shoelaces of the Mind Production

  ISBN-13:978-1497539044

  ISBN-10:1497539048

  Like my author page on facebook.. www.facebook.com/GCPWriter/

  Dedicated to my parents. Including my step-parents, I guess. Hehe.

  Chapter 1

  The Amethyst Wielder Will Crack the Realms Asunder. - Amethyst Parchments.

  Rivek stepped through the doorway of the mausoleum. He was a lean and tall figure with dark, hollow eyes, feathered black hair, chiseled features, and a bushy black mustache. He wore a hard leather skirt and a similar top. Candles lined the walls of the mausoleum providing a flickering twilight, showing off the rows of cadavers inset in alcoves.

  On reaching the lowest level of the catacombs, Rivek stepped into the center of the room where a white arcane fire burned over a raised stone table. A skeleton, with weathered rags covering parts of his corpse and a burning white fire for a heart, hissed and pointed at the flames. The creature, Balron, spoke in Rivek's mind as much as the sound carried through the abomination's boney chest and neck, "Rivek, they've moved my sword from the castle. Ride like the wind and retrieve it!"

  Rivek bowed slightly. "As you command."

  "They have it at a smithy near the eastern edge of the city."

  Rivek's mouth twisted into a little half smirk. "It's a trap for certain."

  Balron's burning heart dimmed a few notches. "Get the sword!"

  "Should I take some of the neophytes?"

  "No, go alone. Shield your thoughts from Hebron and return with my blade."

  "You'll be flesh again, Master," Rivek said.

  He left the mausoleum. He went to the stables and woke one of the dead Hellsteeds. A mass of rotting flesh and bone lifted itself from the floor of the stable and took the form of a horse. Rivek climbed onto the steed, pointing it in the direction of Lynken. The hellsteed stomped at the ground pushing forward faster than any mortal horse could hope, faster than an eagle flies…

  In Lynken, Juxta stirred awake. He pushed the blanket off to the side of the alleyway as his stomach turned and wrestled with hunger. He walked to one of his favorite spots. He made it to the corner and started catching the eyes of people passing by. Juxta cupped his hands palm up and held them out. "Spare a copper?" Most everybody averted their eyes. He looked to the next person walking. "Spare a copper?"

  His stomach began to ache. Taking off in a quick jog to a simple marketplace, he stood in front of a bin of apples and stared. Waiting, he didn't look at the shop keeper. After what seemed like forever, he turned his eyes on the woman running the fruit stand. He held his hands out again as if he intended to form a cup to catch water. The woman grabbed an apple and put it in Juxta's hands. He ran. She shouted, "What you need is a bath!"

  The boy took a bite out of the bruised and soft fruit. "Last year's apple."

  He ate it down to the seeds and tossed the remainder into the gutter.

  He made his way to another busy corner. "Spare a copper?" He said to everyone passing by. Time seemed to creep by as Juxta pestered person after person. An old man flipped a coin at Juxta, and it fell to the ground. He chased after it. Squeezing the metal tight, he started to run. He ducked inside the closest bakery in the city. Juxta held the copper aloft. "I need a pound loaf."

  A woman inside the shop held out a thick loaf of bread, and they traded.

  Juxta ate half of it on the walk back to his alleyway. Full at last. He curled up under the blanket and drifted off to a lazy sleep. The sun crawled across the sky. He woke up and made his way to another corner of the city. "Spare a copper?" He asked of each passerby. The wind drifted in an uncanny way, and Juxta's own smell assaulted his senses. "I do need a bath," he said, low enough that nobody else heard.

  Night fell. Juxta went back to his alley and consumed the last of the bread. Now it’s time. He covered himself with his blanket, making a hunched over tent. Juxta touched along the cobblestone ground until he noticed a groove. He pulled up on the brick. Then he removed a second stone. His hands dipped into the hole.

  His fingers brushed up against the hard leather case containing his lock picks. He moved his hands to the belt and lifted the thing out of the hole. Wrapping it around his waist, he worked the loop and latch in the darkness. Reaching for his dagger, the cold steel hilt warmed to his touch. He patted the lantern, and the soft leather case was right where it belonged.

  He threw the blanket off and took the back way out of the alley. He crossed the span of the city until he approached a smith. A torch burned on the outside of the building, but all the windows were shuttered. A sword, a sword, a silver piece for a sword…

  He walked up to the inset door and started to work the lock. It clicked, and he stepped into darkness. He pulled out his hooded lantern and spun the steel wheel to generate a spark. The wick lit, and Juxta covered the thing. He paused, letting his eyes adjust. A chest sat under one work bench, and he went straight for it. It was locked. He lifted it onto the bench and started to work. It popped open to reveal nothing. Juxta tossed it off onto the floor. Something wrapped in a blanket caught his eye, but he wanted a sword. He found a barrel of them. Then he turned back to the blanket. It was shaped just like a sword. He unwrapped it.

  A sapphire, bigger than Juxta's fist, connected the hilt and guard to the blade. The metal glistened in the faint light. Symbols etched the blade all up and down its length. Two rubies, as big as coins, dotted the ends of the guards. The hilt was solid gold. The end of the hilt housed a diamond bigger than the boy's thumb.

  Juxta drooled. A little three step dance followed as he rewrapped the sword in the blanket.

  He blew out his lantern and reattached it to his belt. He rested the sword on his shoulder and stepped out of the smith's shop.

  Rivek approached the smithy and sensed Juxta's presence inside. Rivek waited. After a few minutes Juxta emerged. Rivek reached out with his mind to Balron, A boy has the sword.

  Balron whispered back, Strike him down and take it.

  Rivek reached out to Juxta's beating heart and started to squeeze, trying to not make enough noise to alert Hebron. He wanted the sword more than he wanted to face his nemesis.

  The twang of a bow sounded nearby. Rivek caught an arrow fired at him by a mounted archer. This new man wore leather armor from head to toe and soon enough was readying another arrow. Rivek reached for the mortal's heart as he fired his second arrow. Rivek caught the arrow and crushed the man's heart, snuffing out his life in a moment. The necromancer steered his mount towards the fallen corpse and nudged it forward. Balron bellowed, Go after the sword!

  When the first arrow let loose, Juxta took off in a run darting down an alleyway and then another and another. Hebron rumbled like a great, rocky waterfall, summoning power from miles away. Horns sounded, and Rivek sensed hidden forces of men with bows and swords in motion all around him. Rivek took a scant moment to look for Juxta then pointed his Hellsteed towards Tercia. The Hellsteed tore great chunks out of the ground as Rivek raced back to his homeland.

  Juxta made it to his alleyway before sunrise. He hid the sword out of sight and lay down to sleep. He needed to wait until high noon to meet his contact with the thieves. He itched to know what the sword would fetch as he stared at the sky. His stomach was empty, and he cursed himself for being a pig the day before. Won’t be hungry again after tomorrow.

  At the castle, Rollin was dressed in leather armor with long sideburns adorning his face. His head was tria
ngular in shape with stark blue eyes etching their place in the mix. An ancient man, Hebron, stood wearing a light green cotton cloak and carrying a staff with an uncut sapphire on one end. He had wild grey hair that looked like whatever comb might have once been employed long since gave up the fight. Hebron grasped a pearl sphere the size of a plum. King William sat atop a cushioned throne watching intently as the wizard stared into the fireplace. William had broad shoulders and a tightly trimmed full beard. His hair was thick and brown and cut so it had waves in it. King William's face turned into a scowl. "What do you see?"

  Hebron's eyes began to glaze over then he blinked and blinked. "A boy has the sword."

  Rollin said, "Where is this boy?"

  Hebron looked to Rollin. "He's asleep in an alleyway…"

  "Children do not sleep in alleyways in my capital!" William said.

  Hebron shook his head. "This one does…"

  "Is the child an agent of Rivek?"

  "Doubtful, my lord," Rollin said. "Rivek fled the city leaving the sword behind."

  William nodded. "He must be found, and if he is an agent of Rivek, he'll face the gallows."

  "Hebron, where is this boy? Which alleyway?"

  "I'm not certain."

  "All the more reason to start the search now," William said. "Mobilize all the ranger companies. Use the guardsmen to secure the perimeter around the city. Find my sword."

  Rollin sighed. "We lost a rogue scout. Fredrick."

  William's eyes narrowed. "The rogue scouts were under order to sound the alarm, not to take on Rivek alone."

  Rollin crossed his arms. "Yes, when you give orders to our rangers that they aren't to do battle."

  William shook his head. "Is his body still whole?"

  "Yes, thankfully."

  "Arrange full benefits for Fredrick's family, commander."

  Rollin nodded and went to mobilize the armies to find the sword.

  King William raised one eyebrow and cast his gaze on the old wizard.

  Hebron said, "My lord?"

  "Oh, nothing… It's just, in the past, when you've scryed on something, you knew right where it was, but we don't know where this boy is."

  Hebron laughed.

  "You know I'm right," the king said.

  "I want to see if this boy tries to return your sword, my liege."

  "He's a thief. He'll try to flee the city as soon as he realizes what he has."

  *

  Juxta woke up around noon. He gathered up the sword and headed toward his fence's shop. On the outside, the shop looked like any other cloth shop; on the inside, bales of cloth cluttered the place more than most reputable merchants. At noontime the fence closed for lunch, which is when he conducted his real trade.

  When Juxta entered the store, he found Fletch helping a well-to-do lady choose a silk fabric. Fletch said, "Hoy there, Juxta! Wait in the back, will you?" Juxta nodded and went into the back of the shop. After a few minutes the door chime echoed, and Fletch joined him. "Not another sword, I hope!"

  "This one is special! Take a look." Juxta unwrapped it.

  "For sure! Let me hold it." Juxta handed the sword over hilt first. Fletch hefted the weight and slashed the air a few times. "This blade isn't steel. It's too light." He took a swing at a worktable, and a giant chunk of wood flew. "I didn't swing it that hard."

  "What's it worth?" Juxta possessed a gleam in his eyes of a thousand dreams come true. What would he do with riches! His thoughts began to dream of houses and food every day. Perhaps he could invest in a bakery.

  "It's priceless, Juxta…"

  "What does that mean?"

  "Means a lot of things. Let me think."

  The boy drooled. The gems alone would fetch a small mint each. Fletch looked at the inscriptions on the blade. It seemed to be taking forever.

  Fletch pushed the sword hilt first back at Juxta. "Take it back where you found it…"

  Juxta shrieked, "No!"

  "Yes," Fletch said, "It's the king's. You must return it!"

  "Make me an offer at least!"

  "It's too hot, and you'll face the gallows. Nobody will buy this from you or me! You must take it back!"

  Tears welled in Juxta's eyes. Then he thought quickly. "What about the gems in the hilt? Can't we pry those off? Aren't they worth something?"

  "They're likely bound to the blade with magic. Once the king's wizard starts to look for the blade, he'll know where the gems are. Only one thing you can do."

  "The king's wizard can find the sword?"

  "Probably, I don't know. I avoid wizards. In fact, get that sword out of my shop, now!"

  Juxta wrapped up the so-called priceless sword and left the shop. He walked towards home. He considered being honest and returning the sword in the middle of the day, but decided against it and headed for the alleyway. He almost stumbled into two guardsmen standing at the entrance to his meager home. He paused for a while watching them. He thought they might be there by chance, but they didn't seem to be going anywhere. He figured he better stay on the move. He kept seeing mounted men with bows and thick leather armor patrolling the streets, usually a rarity. He moved from one alleyway to another avoiding the main streets. Juxta started to sweat. The sun beat down on him, and the sword grew heavier with every step he took. Finally darkness settled on the city.

  Juxta headed to the smith's shop. No light came out of the windows, and no guards stood outside. He scouted around for prying eyes, and none revealed themselves. He whispered to himself, "This will be over soon enough." The lock clicked open with just the slightest encouragement. He ran to the workbench where he found the sword.

  A metallic clang filled the room as some hidden chuck pulled, and a loud clank soon followed. He turned to look at the door—a portcullis blocked the way. Light flooded the room as the smith opened a hooded lantern. He set the lantern on a bench and started swinging a hammer in a loop at his side.

  He stepped out of the alcove and howled, "I'll tan your oily hide!"

  Juxta drew his knife. "Let me go! I brought it back!"

  "How many times have you robbed me?"

  "I brought it back!"

  The smith spun the hammer faster and aimed it at Juxta's head, but he dodged the blow and made an attempt to cut the smith with the dagger. "I'll cut you open, Smith! Let me go!"

  "Try it, boy. Try it!" the smith said.

  Juxta circled the smith weighing his chances. "Please let me go. I brought it back…"

  Another lantern lit the room, and a man stepped into the center. He looked to be forty years old or so, dressed in faded leather armor with a sword at his waist and a bow strapped across his back. He had big sideburns and piercing blue eyes. "My name is Rollin. Put the knife away and come along quietly, right now."

  Juxta's eyes fell to the floor, and he sheathed his dagger.

  Rollin said, "Bind his hands, Smith."

  The smith clenched and unclenched his fists. "Let me break his arms!"

  "No, he'll face the king's justice."

  Juxta whimpered. "I brought it back."

  "You're still a thief!" the smith said. He bound Juxta's hands behind his back tightly and then raised the portcullis on the door to let them out.

  Rollin ushered Juxta out the door to a waiting squad of men on horses. Rollin lifted Juxta onto an extra horse. They rode to the castle and threw Juxta into a cell in the dungeon. He found the bed to be softer than the alleyway he slept in. Sleep eluded him as he lay staring into the darkness and the faint twinkle of light from a torch down the corridor.

  *

  Elsewhere in the castle, Rollin reported to King William that they found the sword and captured the thief.

  "Tradition dictates we wait for his parents to arrive before doling out any punishment," William said.

  "Yes, my lord," Rollin said. "I'll inform the jailers."

  He turned to go.

  "The next time you and Hebron plan on baiting Rivek with my sword," the king said. "Try and keep it a little bette
r secured that some thief doesn't wander off with it."

  "My apologies. We shouldn't bait Rivek. We should invade Tercia. But, Hebron is old. If we don't defeat Rivek before Hebron's time, we'll be forced to recruit help from Weslan."

  "Hebron has served my fathers for a dozen generations. He'll likely outlive me and my sons."

  Rollin smiled. "Hebron will outlive us all, my liege."

  Rollin moved to leave. King William said, "The boy. The thief. See to it that he gets a grown man's portion of food."

  "My liege?"

  "I want him well fed, Rollin."

  "I'll see to it."

  Chapter 2

  Juxta woke to a loud clank on the iron bars of his cage. A jailer stood there with a wooden tray. Food, thought Juxta. Then his stomach turned, realizing what they likely served prisoners. The guard waited for Juxta to step up to the slot, and the tray slid through. Juxta looked at it in awe: a steaming pile of eggs, three strips of thick bacon, a cinnamon roll, and a pewter mug filled with fresh milk. Juxta could have laughed, for he knew he still dreamed. He took the tray and sat on the bunk. They even thought to give him salt and pepper. He took his first bite and realized he didn't dream. By the end of the meal, satiated, his thoughts drifted to home and his mom's cooking.

  Juxta slept after breakfast. A guard woke him up for lunch and gave him a slab of roast beef and a potato. He lay awake after that. They are just fattening him up for the slaughter. His mind drifted to the gallows and the dungeon. Boredom started to creep into Juxta's mind. A young maiden about Juxta's age brought dinner. The girl wore a blue dress with flower shapes woven in the fabric. Her hair was straight and solid black.

  "Hi," he said.

  The girl turned away.

  "My name's Juxta."

  "Yes, and you're a thief."

  Juxta sighed. "What does the king do with thieves?"

  "He hangs them from the gallows."

  "What's your name?"

  "I agreed to bring you food. I surely don't have to talk to you."

  "I just want to know your name."