“Now,” she whispered.
Magnes drove his fist hard into Fadili’s slack face. Blood and saliva splashed his knuckles as the force of the blow sent both apprentice and mage reeling. Only Ashinji’s strength kept all three from tumbling to the ground.
Magnes rushed forward to ease the weight of the unconscious apprentice off Gran and Ashinji. As tenderly as he would his own child, Magnes lowered his friend to the rough roadbed then crouched beside him. He resisted the urge to wipe away the blood leaking from Fadili’s nose and mouth.
“Are you sure he felt nothing?” Tears stung Magnes’ eyes.
“I promise you he didn’t.” Gran knelt and touched fingertips to Fadili’s forehead. “I will alter his memories now. When he wakes, he’ll tell the slave posse how you threatened to kill him if he didn’t cooperate. Hopefully, they’ll go easy on him.”
“Gods.” Magnes rubbed his bruised and bloody knuckles. “The Eskleipans will be horrified when Fadili tells them what he thinks happened.” The realization of how much confusion and hurt they would feel tore at his soul.
“If it’s any consolation, false memories eventually fade,” Ashinji said. “It might take several months, but by then Fadili should be out of danger.”
Seijon sidled up to Ashinji then leaned against him like a puppy seeking comfort. Ashinji draped an arm across the boy’s slim shoulders. Magnes stayed at Fadili’s side, watching while Gran performed the magic they all hoped would spare their friend.
“It’s done.” Gran drew a deep breath. “Help me up, please.” Ashinji held out his hand for her to grasp.
“I’m going to miss you, my brother,” Magnes whispered. He wanted so much to arrange Fadili’s limbs to more comfortable positions, but knew the deception depended on the illusion of violence.
“We must go now,” Gran urged. “We don’t have much time.”
Magnes sighed then rose to his feet. Separation and loss were a part of life, he knew, but why did it always have to be so hard?
Working as quickly as they could, Magnes and Ashinji caught and haltered the three horses. After leading them out of their pasture onto the road, Ashinji tied the lead ropes to the halters to serve as reins.
Gran gathered some supplies into a satchel then swung aboard the little bay mare with ease. Magnes mounted the piebald, grunting as the horse’s prominent spine dug into his crotch. Ashinji must have noticed his discomfort, for he said, “I’m guessing the farmer had no saddle blankets?”
“Don’t know. Forgot to ask,” Magnes replied through gritted teeth.
Ashinji chuckled. “I sympathize, my friend.”
With spare rope from the wagon, Ashinji secured a bag, also filled with supplies, to the back of the chestnut gelding he and Seijon were to ride then quickly mounted. He reached down and grasped Seijon’s wrist then helped the boy to scramble up behind him.
For a few moments, no one spoke. High in the canopy of the stately old oak, birdsong filled the branches with sweet, piping notes. A tiny butterfly, the color of the summer sky, alighted on the back of Magnes’ hand and clung there, its wings opening and closing in languid sweeps.
The butterfly fluttered away. Magnes turned to look back at Fadili and the sight of his young friend lying senseless on the road tore a groan from Magnes’ lips. “Gods…We can’t leave him like this!”
“We have no choice. We’ve done all we can to protect him. We must go now.” Gran’s implacable tone left no room for dissent.
“May Eskleipas always hold you in His hands, Brother. I’m sorry.” Magnes wiped his streaming eyes with trembling fingers.
“May the One keep him safe,” Ashinji added. “Which way, my friend?”
“Northeast, cross-country. We should reach Amsara in about two weeks, that is, if we don’t run into any trouble. There’s a smaller road that parallels this one, but I’m not quite sure how far we’ll have to ride overland until we find it. Since the army isn’t going that way, we shouldn’t encounter any patrols.”
“Our only hope now is speed,” Ashinji commented, tugging on his ear and glancing over his shoulder. “We haven’t time to conceal our trail, so we’ll have to outrun our pursuers.”
“Let us pray these horses are up to the task,” Gran responded.
“They’ll have to be,” Ashinji replied, his voice grim. “Lead the way, Magnes.”
Together, the little band of fugitives turned their horses’ noses eastward.
At sunset, they reached the secondary road and turned north once again. They rode hard until moonrise, then stopped and sheltered in an abandoned barn for the remainder of the night. At first light, they pushed on.
They rode now through rolling grasslands dotted with small stands of oak and solitary chestnut trees, populated by sheep and brown-spotted cattle. Isolated farmsteads appeared in little valleys or on windswept hilltops then fell away behind as they pressed onward. It soon became obvious their meager supplies would not last much more than a few days. Finding food in this sparsely settled land would be extremely difficult with no weapons for hunting, and they dared not stop openly at any of the farms along the way. The only alternative was the use of Gran’s magic.
“At the next farmstead we come to, I’ll cast glamours on us,” the old mage said.
Shortly after midday, they spotted a small, thatch-roofed farmhouse standing in a little hollow about a hundred paces off the road. A stand of laurel trees across the road provided a convenient place of concealment where Ashinji and Seijon could wait with the horses.
Even after she had explained and had cast the glamour, Magnes still couldn’t believe his eyes. In Gran’s place, an old human woman with iron gray hair and dark brown eyes stood before him.
“By the way you’re gaping at me, I can guess my glamour is convincing,” Gran sniffed as she tied a scrap of cloth over her head for a scarf. “Now, hold still while I disguise you.” Magnes held his breath as he waited, his eyes riveted on Gran’s every move. A slight wave of vertigo, a burst of tingling along his limbs, and then…
“Ha! You’d fool your own mother, young man,” the old mage commented wryly.
“What do I look like? Tell me!” Magnes demanded.
Ashinji stifled a guffaw behind his hand. Seijon gaped like a startled bird.
“You’ve got a shiny bald head and a big black beard,” the boy squeaked. “You look like a pirate!”
“You do look a bit, uh, frightening,” Ashinji agreed, his wiry body shaking with mirth. “You could pass for a pirate. I think.”
“Oh, don’t listen to them,” Gran grumbled. “You don’t look like yourself and that’s all that matters.”
Magnes found himself laughing as well and it felt good, in spite, or maybe because of, the danger they faced.
As Ashinji and Seijon led the horses deeper into the sheltering trees, Magnes and Gran approached the house along a gravel-strewn footpath. They moved cautiously, expecting at any moment to be challenged by dogs, but the yard remained quiet.
“Halloo!” Magnes called out. “Anyone at home?” He and Gran waited in silence for a few heartbeats before he tried again, louder this time.
“Halloooo!”
After several more moments of silence, Magnes looked at Gran and said, “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”
“No, there is someone here,” Gran replied. “I can sense…
“Let’s go look inside.” Magnes crossed the yard in several quick strides to the door then pushed it open. He stuck his head in and looked around. A rough-hewn oak table and two chairs stood at the center of the room. The only other furniture consisted of a cupboard against the far wall and two more finely crafted chairs beside the unlit hearth. Natural light entering from two small windows and the open door provided the only illumination.
“No one in here,” he called out. He entered and stood, hands on hips, puzzled; then, it occurred to him why
