Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) (31 page)

A week later, Tiberius and El Gato were entering a small café in the town of Vonair.  As he entered the inn, three things seemed to happen at once.  Tiberius’ wrist pinched sharply, a warning of danger.  Then there was the blur.  Then a man emerged from the shadows.  This was true invisibility, not stealth.  Tiberius and the man struck almost together.  The assassin went flying backwards across a table but not before Tiberius had felt something slam into his chest, hard. 

The man was slow to get up, so Ti’s first response was to cast true seeing on himself to spot other invisible foes.  The man had been alone though.  Something was wrong, though; he wasn’t pressing the attack. 

The assassin staggered up, clutching his arm.  Tiberius realized he was staring at his dagger and then back at him. 

“It failed,”  the assassin said, looking down at his dagger in astonishment; or, rather, he looked at what was left of his dagger.  The blade had shattered.  Apparently fragments of the shattered blade had cut his own arm.  The dagger had been something special.  It must have tripped the prismatic shield; an ordinary dagger would never do that.  The assassin staggered against the table, still looking at Tiberius in amazement. 

“They can’t fail,” he said.

“First time for everything,”  Tiberius replied.

The assassin, apparently in considerable pain, sank to one knee, but he managed to give a slight nod of acknowledgment.  “Failure is death,” he said.  Weakly raising the hilt of the shattered dagger he gave a salute to Tiberius.  “In death I salute you, warrior.”

With that, the assassin crumpled over and breathed his last.  El Gato cautiously approached the body.  Taking a handkerchief out and using a gloved hand, he gingerly gripped the hilt of the dagger.

“Madre de Dios.  This man was one of the Assassins of Kor.    I saw one of these hilts once before.  That man didn't survive the attempt,” he said.  “Someone wants you dead very badly.  Are you sure you weren’t injured?  They use golden blades of the darkest magic.   The poison from these blades is the deadliest.”  He cast a worried glance back at Tiberius.  “No cuts at all; are you sure?”

“Relax, I’m sure.  If I’d been poisoned I’d be like him now, wouldn’t I?”  Tiberius explained.

“I don’t know; you might have ways of slowing poisons,” El Gato said. 

“Funny, I wouldn’t have thought that a dagger would trip the prismatic shield,”  Tiberius said aloud.

“That was no ordinary dagger.  They say no one survives the thrust of the Assassins of Kor.  I thought nothing could stop one.  What’s a prismatic shield?”

“New magical protections this year.  I’m taking your advice and trying a layered defense matrix.”

“I guess that explains why you're alive.  Whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” El Gato said.  He took the dagger and carefully wrapped it in a handkerchief.  “We’ll clean it then mount it on the town bulletin board where everyone can see it.  When word gets out you survived one of the Assassins of Kor's golden daggers, that will cut down on these assassination attempts.”

“The goblin queen will try something else.  This country won’t be safe till she’s gone,”  Tiberius said.

“She was willing to shell out for one of these assassins; she must be getting pretty desperate.  I’d love to see the look on her face when she learns they failed.” 

Back at Vonair, Lord Brandon shook his head reading the report.  “Assassins of Kor, eh?  You’re having a big impact here, Tiberius.  Some people don’t like that.”

“I know; this is getting ridiculous,” Tiberius answered.

“Not to them,” Lord Brandon replied.  “I don’t think the Assassins of Kor will try again, not right away.  Much as they’d like to finish a job they started, that knife is their best shot and they’ve already got one dead assassin.  Leaving bodies around isn’t their style, especially not one of their own.  From what I’ve heard of them, their assassin saluting you will have some weight.  I think we can expect the queen to try something different.”  He looked up and studied Tiberius.

“You’re looking a little tired; why don’t you take a couple of days off?  We’ll likely have a couple of days before we see her next move.  Take a rest while it’s quiet.  You’ve got some more pay coming; they approved our salvage claim from those trolls.” 

“Where can I spend it around here?”  Tiberius said.  “Vonair is a nice little fishing village, but the cultural side is a little lacking.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Lord Brandon laughed.  “The entertainment here is a bit sparse unless you’re into drinking and whoring.  I wish we had a bit more culture for the men too, actually.”

“I wonder…”  Tiberius said thoughtfully.  “You mind if I pop down to Walsingham for a couple of days?  I wonder if I couldn’t round up a bit of culture for us.  Summer theater season is winding down there; there should be some actors looking for work.”

“That’s a good idea.  Give it your best shot; you’ve more than earned it.  If they want an escort we’ll give it to them.  My wife’s orders, if no other reason,”  Lord Brandon replied.

Tiberius took the coast road down to Walsingham and for a change managed to arrive without any really interesting adventures.  He had a nice dinner in a waterfront restaurant overlooking the river and had a quiet night’s sleep for a change.  After that, he spent a day or so looking into the theater in Walsingham.  On the third day he found what he was looking for. 

They weren’t the greatest company of players he’d seen, but they were competent and had a good repertoire.  They were also a bit down on their luck.   

Backstage was a small cluster of wagons.  A dejected group of the players was relaxing around a small campfire after the evening's performance.  Some of the younger members of the troop were still passing around the cup to the audience in hopes of collecting a few more coins.  The chief of the players sat with a ledger on his knees, trying to figure out how he could keep the company going. 

“How does it look?” asked Marissa, who had just finished her role as Helena in
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
. 

“You’d think a town like this would have more appreciation for culture,”  the chief said.

“Does this mean we don’t get paid?  Again?”  Leonardo said skeptically. 

“Acting isn’t a profession one does for money,” said the chief.  “It’s a matter of the arts."

“No pay,” sighed Leonardo. 

“I’ve got to eat, boss,” implored one of the girls. 

The director put on his best fatherly manner addressing one of his young company.  “Too much food isn’t good for the figure.  Mind you, it wouldn’t hurt to try to cultivate a few more patrons.  If you were just a bit nicer to that gentleman the other night…”

“Gentleman?  He ain’t no gentleman, I can tell you that…”

“He’s a patron of the arts, isn’t he?  He paid in silver.  A little attention and we’ll get some gold out of him.”

She laughed at her director.  “I don’t think it’s the arts he’s after.  I ain’t no whore, love.”

The director frowned.  “No, no one is asking you to do anything … improper with the gentleman.  But times are tough around here and it might not hurt to be a bit nicer to him, is all.  If you could just persuade him to be a bit more of a patron …”

“He’ll take a lot of persuading before he coughs up any more for us, let me tell you.  Serve you right if I did just run off with him.  If he didn’t have such bad breath and manners I might…”

The night’s Cobweb had just burst into the assembly.  She was excitedly holding some coins out of the players cup she’d been passing around the crowd.  “You see this?  It’s gold!”

“Gold?  You’re daft; who’d put gold in a player’s cup?” said the astonished director.

“Look for yourself!” she said, holding out the coins. 

The director examined them carefully but they appeared quite genuine.

“Blimey!”  The chief leapt up in excitement.

The other players gathered around with interest. 

“Looks like we might get paid after all,” said Leonardo.  His financial instincts awakened, he took his young actress by the arm.  “Who did this?  Did you get a name?”

“Tall fellow dressed in black.  Dangerous looking chap.  Sort of gave me the creeps at first to look at him, but he’s polite enough.”

“Did you ask him round for a drink?” the director asked. 

“I didn’t need to.  He asked me when he could see you.”

“Who is he, do you suppose?”  asked Leonardo. 

“I don’t know, but he’s better looking than that fat slug you wanted me to be nice to.”

“Here he comes!”

Tiberius walked up the campsite, knocking on the side of a wagon. 

“Excuse me, I was told I could find the director of this company here?”

The director puffed himself up a bit, trying to look friendly and businesslike but not desperate.  “That would be me.  And you are?”

“I’m Doctor Tiberius Fuller; I’m a scout with the Rangers up north at Vonair.”

“The Tiberius?  The wizard everyone’s talking about?  The one who’s been terrorizing the goblins?”  Leonardo asked. 

“What wizard?”  the director asked Leonardo

“Don’t you ever listen to the news?”  Leonardo asked.

“I believe I’ve been mentioned in passing in some of the dispatches,” Tiberius answered.  “I don’t know what you’ve heard.  The papers tend to exaggerate.  I do think it fair to say I’ve caused the goblins some minor inconvenience.”

“What exactly did you want with us?” asked the director.

“You know, I couldn’t help noticing that your esteemed company seems to be getting a bit lost in the crowd here in Walsingham.  I think that’s a shame, for there’s surely no finer company of players about.  I was wondering if you’ve ever thought of traveling up to Vonair?”

The director couldn’t repress a slight shudder.  “Ah … well.  To tell you the truth, no.  With no disrespect to the Rangers, the roads haven’t exactly been safe lately and Vonair being a small town, it didn’t seem a good prospect, financially speaking.”

“I understand your attitude, but I wonder if I couldn’t persuade you to reconsider?  The roads are much safer these days and I’m sure Lord Brandon would be happy to provide an escort to ensure your safety.  It’s true it’s a small town but there are a lot of soldiers there with a fair amount of money these days.  They could use something a little more wholesome to spend their cash on than drink.”

“He’s got a point there,” Leonardo offered.  “I hear things are changing beyond the borders.  Lots of prize money flying about, and a bunch of bored soldiers.  Could be good pickings for us.” 

The director stroked his chin thoughtfully.  “The money’s no good if we aren’t alive to spend it.”

“I’d rather get killed than starve,” offered Cobweb.

“You might not say that if you’ve seen a goblin.  Like as not they won’t be so quick to kill a young pretty girl.  There’s worse things that can happen to you than death,” Marissa said, warningly.

“I understand your concerns about safety,” Tiberius answered.  “But you will be given a full escort.  You can take the river to Vonair if you prefer.”

“Well it’s an interesting offer, M’lord, but travel’s expensive at the best of times and I don’t know that it would really be worth…”

“Yes, you’d need some start-up funds, naturally.  I thought you might accept a small donation of say, 200 gold crowns, provided you agree to come to Vonair.  I could give you half now.”

“Two hundred crowns?!”  Marissa said, astonished.

“You’d make more than that in Vonair, naturally, being the only proper company on the river.”

“Right, when do we pack?” asked Leonardo.

“Here, now, who’s the chief here?”  The director looked about for a moment, but he knew it was hopeless.

“Right, when did you say that escort would be ready?”

Back at Vonair, one of the pages put a flyer on the bulletin board a few days later.  Captain Walker stopped to stare at it. 

“What’s this?  Players coming to Vonair?  Who’s idea was this?”

“Whom do you think, but our resident scholar?”  El Gato offered.

Darras raised an eyebrow towards Tiberius, who answered sheepishly.

“Yes, well, I thought a bit of culture wouldn’t hurt any of us, and as I’ve been doing rather well in prize money it seemed only proper to do something to give back to the community.”

“I see.  About time someone thought to bring some entertainment in around here.  I trust you’ll let me contribute to the culture fund.”

“With all my heart,” Tiberius answered as he accepted Darras’ purse.

“Good, that’s settled.  You’ve seen them, I gather.  Since we sent you to pick them out I suppose they can act.   Are the girls pretty?”  Darras asked.

“Well, they’re a young enthusiastic cast,”  Tiberius answered with uncharacteristic hesitation.  “The sort of troop we need up here is young and spirited, not old famous actors.”

“I think that means yes,”  said El Gato. 

“I do believe you are right, Captain.  You know, I think we may have found a chink in our young scholar’s armor after all.  Always the quiet ones.  You turn your back on them for a moment and the next thing you know they’re importing a troop of beautiful women.”

“Now really, you don’t think I’m doing…”  Tiberius said defensively.

“You admit they are pretty though?”  Captain Walker said.

“Well, yes, they’re actresses, naturally they have a good appearance,”  Tiberius replied.

“And you’re not the least bit interested in any of them?”  El Gato chided.

“Does that matter?”  Tiberius replied.  “I admit some of them are very charming young ladies, but they aren’t interested in me.”

“I don’t know about that,” El Gato said.  “I’d be careful, Scholar, if I were you.  Some of them might think a brave and rich wizard might be a suitable meal ticket.  I wonder what that mysterious Salina person will say about you hanging about with young actresses anyway.”

“What’s it to her?”  Tiberius said.  “If she wants more attention she could show up.  Why shouldn’t I court other women?  She’s made it clear she has no serious intentions for me.  I wonder if elves are ever serious about anything.”    

Lord Brandon came up at that moment.  “Ah, yes, speaking of elves, do you know what Lord Gillyian’s on about?  I just got a note requesting an audience and he says he’s coming by ship.”

“By ship?  That’s not like him,” Tiberius answered. 

“No, and he won’t say what its all about.  Just that he’ll be here in a month.”  Lord Brandon said.  “Well, you’d better go and escort those actors here.  Strange, we’ve never had so many volunteers for escort duty before.  Wonder why.  Try to keep your eyes open.  I’d take married men for this mission if I were you.  Try to get back here before Gillyian arrives.”

The next weekend was a busy one.   The players arrived and received a good reception from the townsfolk.  The next day Gillyian's ship was spotted and Tiberius and Lord Brandon turned out for a formal reception. Everyone had their dress uniforms on and the hall glittered with shining silver armor and the green and black banners of the Rangers.  Lord Gillyian was dressed in his finest, in turn.  The forest lord walked in and gave a deep bow, which Lord Brandon returned. 

“Well, Lord Gillyian, to what do we owe this pleasure?” he asked.

“I’m here on a matter of cultural urgency, Lord Brandon.”

“Cultural urgency?” Lord Brandon asked.  “Funny, we were just talking about improving the culture around here.  What did you have in mind?” 

“You will recall that these lands you now occupy are only given to the Stewardship provided certain conditions are met.  One of these is that this castle will be kept in good order and that any significant changes to the castle or the town will not be undertaken without prior approval of the elves.”

“Yes, of course.  As you can see nothings changed,” Lord Brandon said somewhat flustered.  The provisions of the treaty were well known and his career would be over if the he lost the territory to them over some breach of etiquette.   Lord Gillyian didn’t seem upset, more amused.  What was he missing, the lord wondered. 

“That is precisely the problem.  How do you account for the appalling state of the furniture in this building?  Specifically I refer to the desecration of the great tower with a bunch of match sticks you laughingly refer to as furniture?”

“Are you saying you want to start some sort of international incident because you don’t like the furniture here?”  Lord Brandon asked. 

“It’s a matter of art, Lord, something we take seriously.  We feel that immediate action is called for.  We knew that as soon as we were alerted to the situation by your sage councilor here,”  Gillyian said looking at Tiberius, who cringed in turn. 

“What exactly did you tell them?”  Lord Brandon said, glaring at Tiberius.

“I … well, I just casually asked an elf friend of mine if she knew where I could buy some furniture.  Elves are renowned for their woodcraft after all.  It seemed like a logical question.”

“A rather foolish one,” Gillyian said.  “Do you know what you are asking?”

“Apparently not,” Tiberius answered.

“You speak to my people of a simple need at a time when each day you risk life and limb to drive the darkness from our doorstep.  Were we to accept payment in exchange for answering such a simple need, the dwarves and dragons would forever laugh at our greed,”  Lord Gillyian answered.

“Ah, well, I see your point.  But it wasn’t a crazy request.  The worker is worthy of his pay,”  Tiberius countered. 

“While that may be true, there is an additional matter of honor to consider,” Gillyian explained.  “The two great towers here were constructed by my people and are considered a local wonder.  What will visitors say when they see these buildings furnished with rustic items made by fishermen in their spare time?  They will think the lords of the forest have no woodcraft.  The situation is intolerable.”

“I’m most grateful you have called this difficulty to my attention, Lord Gillyian,”  Lord Brandon said, gingerly.  This was one of the elves’ jokes, apparently, but he did tread cautiously whenever the elves were concerned.  If angered, they had the power to destroy cities, and it didn’t do to forget it.  “What do you propose as a solution to this dilemma?”