Once he’s finished cleaning the wounds, James lays him back into the bed and places the covers once more up to his chin. Then he comes over and sits with Miko at the table.
Miko looks longingly at the food piled upon the tray and James says, “We may as well eat it, though let’s leave some for him should he awaken.”
As they eat, James asks Miko if he found out anything about Lord Colerain’s business in Cardri.
“It seems not much is known around here about Lord Colerain,” he explains between bites of food. “However, I did find out some things about a Lord Kindering.” Seeing the lack of understanding on James’ face he explains, “Lord Kindering is who Lord Colerain is staying with while he’s in town. I did find out that much.”
“Ah, okay,” James says understandingly, “go on.”
“Apparently, Lord Kindering is very wealthy. He has many different trading concerns all over Cardri and some even extending into the various kingdoms neighboring us.” Looking at James he says, “He even has businesses inside the Empire, or so it’s said.”
“Interesting. Did you find out what his connection with Lord Colerain is?” James asks.
“No, nobody seems to know much about that,” Miko answers. “However, some that I talked with seem to think that this Lord Kindering is on the shady side. Rumors are surfacing about dealings he’s had with slavers and smugglers.”
“Oh?” prompts James as he finishes the last of his share of the meal.
“Couldn’t find out the particulars, but it seems he is not one you would wish to cross,” he warns.
“Sounds that way,” James concludes. Seeing that Miko is done with his dinner, he says, “Why don’t you take the other bed, I’m going to be up for a while.”
Miko doesn’t argue, just goes over and plops down on the bed. As he lies there, he watches James as he takes the traveling case with the writing material in it and places it on the table. “What are ya gonna do?” he asks.
Opening the case, James removes a piece of paper, an inkwell, and one of the finely pointed quills. “I’m going to jot down some notes about what’s going on and different things. Just go to sleep and don’t worry about it.”
“No problem there,” he says sleepily. He lies there awhile watching James until finally drifting off to sleep.
James opens the inkwell and places it near his paper. Grabbing the quill he dips it into the inkwell and then brings it to the paper to begin writing. When the quill touches the paper, a big glob of ink flows off the quill and onto the paper making a great big mess.
This may be harder than I thought, he thinks. He dips the quill into the ink again, this time scraping the excess off before bringing it over to the paper. This time when he tries to write, he takes his time and manages to do a fair job of it. Though the letters are a bit smudged and fatter than they should be, he’s able to make out what is written. He spends a little more time practicing making various letters and shapes until he’s satisfied that he has the gist of it.
He then takes his practice sheet and puts it to the side. Taking out a fresh sheet, he proceeds to make notes on magic and the various spells he has tried along with their effects. How the magic made him feel, the effect it had on him, etc.
… It would seem that I don’t really need to use rhyme and meter to produce magical effects. I simply need to have a mental picture and a willingness to do magic, and then it happens. Perhaps the words are simply to help the novice practitioner maintain the mental picture as you do magic. Then once you grow in ability…
… the spells that continue in their effect, like the orb, seem to need a continual draw of energy from the castor in order to maintain the effect. Once you stop the flow, it ends. I have also noted that if you cast a continually active spell, yet don’t want the continual draw or the required mental concentration to maintain it, then the power used is much greater, and much more physically draining than the others. I believe this is due because it draws all the magic required for the duration of the spell at the time you initially cast it. Need to find a way to lessen the impact of those types…
When his eyes begin to droop and the yawns come with greater frequency, he sets the quill down. He inspects his writing and is satisfied even though it’s uneven and the letters are not formed properly. At least it’s legible. With more practice, he is sure to get better. More yawns escape him while he closes the inkwell, cleans his quills, and lays out his manuscripts to dry. He then comes over to the bed that Miko is lying upon and settles down beside him, nudging him to move him further over onto the other side of the bed. When he at last has enough room, he reaches over to the table, snuffs out the candle and quickly succumbs to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
James is the first one awake despite having been the last one to bed. Miko’s snoring two inches from his ear was too much for him to take and once it grew light enough, decided to get up. At the table he takes one of the notes he made the night before and inspects his handiwork. Aside from a few globular letters his inexperience with ink and quill had produced, he is quite satisfied. A tentative touch reveals the ink has fully dried and so gathers the rest of his notes. He places them back into the traveling case along with the rest of the writing materials he used last night. Letting both Miko and Perrilin continue to sleep, he goes down to the common room where he finds one of the serving girls and arranges for their breakfast to be sent to their room. He then returns upstairs and enters quietly so as not to awaken the others.
Crossing the room to the bed, he moves to Perrilin’s side and lowers himself gently to sit next to the bard. Despite his best efforts, the motion of his sitting upon the bed awakens Perrilin. “Good morning,” James says. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Perrilin looks around the room, a little disoriented, unsure as to where exactly he is. Not sensing any immediate threat, he considers James’ question. “I’m alive,” he replies. “Other than that, not too good.”
“They did quite a number on you last night,” James informs him. “You are lucky I came along when I did.” Lifting the blankets to inspect the bard’s injuries, he finds some in the process of healing properly while others are a little red and inflamed. Using a clean towel and some water from the basin, he gently begins to wipe away the little bit of blood that has oozed overnight from several of the cuts.
“I’m glad you did,” he says, flinching slightly in pain as James ministers to his wounds. “How did you happen to be there?”
“I was looking for you,” he explains. “When I was told you had been arrested, I went to the jail only to be told you had never been brought in. Did some looking around and wound up where you were being held.”
Perrilin digested that for a moment then asked, “How did you find out where I was?”
“Well, let’s just say that lately I’ve been fairly good at finding people when I need to,” he replies, avoiding all mention of magic.
From the look on Perrilin’s face, he can tell the bard is not entirely satisfied with his response but seems to be willing to accept it at face value for now. “What did they want with you anyway?” James asks. “It looked as if they were interrogating you and were even going to begin using torture to get what they wanted.” Once the dried blood has been removed from around the wounds, he uses a dry towel and gingerly dries him off before pulling the blanket back up to cover his chest and neck.
“I think you will be okay,” he assures Perrilin. “May need a few days rest to heal properly.”
Perrilin looks at him for a second before asking, “Why did you need to find me?”
“I was hoping you could help me with something,” James says as he gets up and places the towels and basin back on the table.
“Like what?” he asks.
“I was hoping you could help me gain access to the Royal Archives,” he explains.
Surprised, Perrilin asks, “Why?”
Pulling the medallion out from beneath his shirt, he shows the design to Perrilin. “I want to discover if there is any significance to this design,” he explains. “I have been led to believe that it may be important in some way. I don’t suppose you recognize it?” Taking it from around his neck, he hands the medallion to Perrilin.
Holding it close, Perrilin takes a good look at the design before handing it back to James. Shaking his head no, he replies, “I’m sorry, no. I don’t recognize it.”
