Power Study (Poison Study 3.50)

By daybreak they had gained significant ground. Unfortunately they were too late to help a small group of border guards, who were on patrol and had encountered Rye.

“Report,” Ari ordered the four men. They nursed various gashes and ugly slices left by Pemba.

“We stopped a Lieutenant for a routine check and to hear any news from the castle, sir,” one of the men said. He pressed a bloody handkerchief to his forearm. “He wasn’t one of ours, and he didn’t have any transfer papers on him.” The man stared at the Sandseed.

Janco leaned close and said, “He’s my grandfather. He dressed himself this morning and we don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

Now the soldier gaped at him. Fun.

“Janco,” Ari warned. “Continue.”

“We followed regulations and tried to take him into custody for further questioning, when—”

“He pulled a wickedly sharp blade and disarmed you all.” Janco flourished his arm as if striking with an invisible sword.

The man nodded.

“How long ago?” Ari asked.

“Two hours.”

Ari nodded as if he already knew. “Direction?”

“East.” Janco pointed to the spot where Rye had pushed through the underbrush, breaking a sapling’s branch.

“How do you know our quarry caused the damage and not these soldiers?” Stripey asked him.

Janco paused. Interpreting trail signs and reading clues from his surroundings was second nature to him. In his mind’s eye, Janco saw a vision of Rye still gripping the bloody scimitar as he navigated the tight trail. It took him a moment to translate what triggered the vision into physical details.

“The damage to the brush is limited to three feet, suggesting one man’s passage. And the break-off of the branch has a point on this side, meaning he went east,” he explained.

“If he heads northeast, there’s a small town along the edge of the forest, sir,” the soldier said.

Ari ordered the men to return to their station for medical treatment. Janco once again led the way, following Rye’s trail, which turned to the northeast.

“Pemba has fed on the blood of those soldiers, and her strength has grown,” the Sandseed said. “We must hurry.”

“What do you think we’re doing? Going for a stroll?” Janco snapped.

Ari didn’t say a word, but Janco sensed his partner’s displeasure. He increased his pace, and soon they arrived at the edge of the town. Before stepping from the forest, Ari pulled him back.

“Let’s not be too hasty,” Ari said, consulting a paper. “Rye probably knows we’re after him.”

“Pemba will alert him to intruders, and to any magic use,” the Sandseed said.

Janco considered. Ambushes and magical illusions wouldn’t work, but more mundane tactics might. “We have darts and sleeping juice. How close is too close?”

“You have a plan?” Ari asked in surprise.

He bristled at the insult. “Who saw through Stripey’s illusion? Me. Who thought of using Curare—”

“Of course,” Stripey said. “I had forgotten. We can use Curare to paralyze Rye and sever any magical connection with Pemba.” He smiled, flashing white teeth.

Janco exchanged a look with Ari. Should they fess up? Ari nodded.

“About that Curare stuff,” he said. “We…ah…lied. We don’t have any. Would sleeping potion work?”

Stripey’s smile died. “It depends on how strong Pemba is. If she has complete control of Rye, nothing but Curare will work.”

“Magic sucks,” he said.

Stripey stilled as he gazed at Janco. “The benefits far outweigh the abuses,” he said. “You, for example, could benefit from a session with me.”

“Hold on there, Stripey Boy. Don’t you try any of that story-weaving mumbo jumbo on me. I’m perfect just the way I am.”

A strangled cry emanated from Ari. He covered it by clearing his throat. “Let’s focus on the problem at hand. The house Rye grew up in is on the southeast side of town.” Ari peered at the paper in his hand. “We need to confirm he’s there first.”

“He’ll recognize us right away,” Janco said. “Unless we recruit one of the town’s guard?”

“Good idea. Once we know where he is, we can entice him out, but how?” Ari rubbed a large hand on his head as if he could force a plan to form.

Janco tried to put himself in Rye’s place. It wasn’t difficult to do. “He’s a young hot shot. We just need some loud mouth braggart at the local pub to claim he’s the best swordsman in town. Word spreads like fleas in tiny communities. Eventually Rye’ll get bit. He’ll show up, wanting to prove the big mouth wrong with his magic scimitar.”

“Pubs are busy places, lots of people so Pemba’s magic won’t pick us up,” Ari said. “We can disguise Bour to blend in better.”

Bour? It took a moment for Janco to realize Ari referred to Stripey.

“Once you shoot him with the sleeping potion, I can use my magic to help,” Stripey added.

“Only use magic if we give you permission,” Janco said.

“One problem to our plan,” Ari said. “There will be other challengers before Rye shows, and the loud mouth must be able to prove himself.” He gazed at Janco. “I doubt a local guard will have the skills to thwart all opponents, and I have better aim with the dart gun.”

Janco groaned. He had walked right into this one.

His partner cocked his head, studying Janco with a thoughtful expression. “I think you’ll look good as a blond.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ari suppressed the desire to smack Janco upside the head. Sitting in a dark corner of the Rouillard tavern, he watched his partner scratch his scalp for the millionth time. Janco’s new blond hair and goatee blended in amid the local bar dwellers. With a uniform change and a touch of make-up, Janco’s facial appearance had also been altered. The dye they used on his hair, though had caused an allergic reaction and if Janco didn’t stop scratching, he would ruin his disguise.

The Sandseed magician waited for them outside. His dark skin was impossible to mask so he found a shadow near the tavern’s back entrance to hide in.

Janco gestured with his beer mug and boasted of his swordsmanship to any and all. A bunch of the town’s soldiers lounged nearby. Ari had briefed the guards, and Captain Kenton had confirmed Rye was inside his mother’s house. Rye flashed the Captain an old leave form, but the Captain ignored the expiration date on the papers.

The guards then introduced Janco to the tavern’s occupants as their newest recruit. In Ixia, only guards were allowed to wear swords. However, many of the younger Ixians had joined the reserve forces. In case of a war, the Commander would call the reservists into active duty. One of the perks to being a reservist was permission to carry a weapon.

Guards and reservist tended to frequent Ixia’s taverns. Friendly and not-so friendly scrimmages would erupt from time to time, but with so many guards around all the matches stayed clean.

With everyone in position, the bait had been set. Now all Ari and Janco needed was the fish, but, so far, Rye had failed to appear.

“…no one is faster than me,” Janco said. He slammed his beer mug on the bar, splashing yellow liquid onto his neighbor’s arm.

“With what? Your mouth?” someone called out as snickers erupted.

“No, he’s the fastest pants wetter in all of Ixia,” another voice added. More laughter.

Janco reached for his mug without looking and knocked it over, dumping the contents into the same man whose sleeve he had doused. The Lieutenant stood. He towered a foot over Janco.

“Okay big mouth.” The Lieutenant growled. “Time to prove yourself.” He pulled a broadsword from his scabbard.

The top of the bar was cleared off, and everyone stepped back. Silence descended. The Lieutenant hopped onto the top of the narrow bar. “Come on.” He gestured rudely to Janco.

Janco scratched his head. Ari silently encouraged his partner to move. While fighting on top of a

bar was rather unusual, he knew Janco could adapt.

“That certainly explains it,” Janco said as he joined the Lieutenant.

“Explains what?”

“The stains.” Janco pulled his sword.

“Stains?”