Chapter Text
A single drumbeat rang out across the palace courtyard by the time that Charles Price, better known to his fellow sorcerers as Hunter, entered through the gates. He was what his fellows called a collector, a man that saved people and creatures from those that would do them harm. But he couldn’t save the two people that were being half dragged across the cobblestones towards a large pyre, rotten fruit and stones being hurled at them from the crowd all the while. Not now. He had a more important task ahead of him.
Normally he’d never have entered this place, it wasn’t safe for his kind anymore, not since the Emperor had declared them enemies of the state. And the Witchfinders, employed by the royal house had persecuted that decree with a vengeance.
But he had to come. His friends had been rumoured to have been caught. And he had to see if it was true. It was a detour to his main quest, but this was more important than his job now.
“Let this serve as a lesson to all.” Emperor Titus exclaimed, his voice booming across the courtyard. “These criminals: Howard James Horn, and Laura Rue Sharp. Have been charged, and judged guilty of conspiracy to commit acts of sorcery and uses of magic.” A hushed murmur went up, followed quickly by the sounds of jeering as the two were walked up to the wooden pyre. The Emperor seemed pleased by this display as he allowed it to continue for a few more moments, smiling all the while, before raising his hand for silence, which followed a few seconds later. “And as written into the sacred laws of the dual kingdoms. I, Titus the Sixth: Emperor of Eogliagarth and Gaghgon; Protector of Dwarves and Men, and Holder of the Golden Staff, am upholding the decreed that such practices are banned, on penalty of death.”
“Burn them!” Someone shouted from the crowd, and the chant: burn them, burn them, was picked up by almost everyone. Everyone expect for Charles, who only mouthed the words, fearful of being caught out, but refusing to actually say the words that would condemn his friends.
Titus once more smiled and again raised his hand to signal for silence.
“I pride myself on being a just and fair sovereign to you all.” Titus said as he gazed down at his assembled subjects, before a hardness came about the man once more. “But for a crime this abominable. There is only one sentence that I can pass.”
Hunter watched, weighing the odds as the fires began to rise on the pyre. He could save them, it would be nothing for him. But saving them, and getting out was an entirely different matter. The place was crawling with guards, but worst were the witchfinders, who stood around the courtyard, almost daring someone to try and attempt a rescue.
So, he watched as his friends burned alive, trying to keep a false smile on his face, so that he wouldn’t stick out to those that would hope to stop him.
Hating himself for his ultimate decision, Hunter turned his back on his burning and screaming friends. And walked back out of the courtyard. He killed himself for running away, but he had a much more important task to complete.
“Absolutely not.” Sir Duncan said indignant at Hunter’s request when he made it. “I invite you into my home. And this is what you demand. Never.”
Hunter knew this was going to go. Giving up your child had that effect on these people. He just needed to make his point hard enough.
“Sir Duncan.” Hunter said, his wand was not yet drawn but he was not far off using it. This man was a good man, one of their few human allies in this world. And he didn’t want to destroy that by bewitching the knight. “If your boy stays here, he will die. I cannot stress that point enough.”
“But Laura. She will.” Sir Duncan interjected.
“Laura is dead. They burned her along with another this morning.” Hunter exclaimed. Saying it brought the whole situation into a new reality for him. But he pushed down his own emotions. Emotions got people killed. Laura was an example of that.
Sir Duncan did not move, he did not speak at these words. Then he sat down on the nearest chair. His head in his gauntleted hands. “Dead?”
“Yes.” Hunter said, not moving for fear that the knight may take his wrath out on him. “I’m sorry. She was my friend. But your wife.”
Sir Duncan looked up, fury in his eyes.
“I will kill them all.” Sir Duncan said, his hand clenching and unclenching his sword hilt. “Every one of them.”
“Now is not the time.” Hunter said as he grabbed hold of the knight’s tunic. “Listen to me, Sir Duncan. The Witchfinders are on the way. I need to take the boy now.” Hunter took out his wand, ready to use it if need be. He had great respect for the knight. But if he had to hurt the man to complete his mission, then he would. It would be for the greater good. “If I don’t take him, he will burn.”
“Burn?” Sir Duncan said, his hand was clutched on the hilt of his sword loosened at the news from the death of his wife. “He’s not even one.”
“They won’t care. The Witchfinders have already burned his mother.” Hunter exclaimed, and hoping to gain the trust of the man in front of him. He laid his wand on the table. “Okay. I’m unarmed. Now will you trust me.”
Sir Duncan shook slightly. But then moved his hand away from the hilt.
“I need to take your boy away. That way, you might be able to survive as well.” Hunter said as he stood waiting for the response.
That was when, a loud banging came from the front door.
“Open up in the name of Emperor Titus!” A loud voice said from behind the door, followed by more banging. The door, Hunter guessed was only moments away from giving way.
“Sir.” A young boy said that Hunter assumed was the knight’s squire. He came running into the room, he couldn’t have been more than fourteen.
Sir Duncan stood, his body as still as a statue as the hammering continued to come from the door.
“Break it down!” The voice from outside commanded.
“Take him.” Sir Duncan said, unsheathing his sword. “Upstairs, first room on the left. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”
“Thank you.” Hunter said as he picked up the wand from the table and made for the stairs. but was called back by the knight.
“Wait.” Sir Duncan said, and rushed over to one of the draws. Opening it with two sets of keys, he reached in and grabbed what looked like a necklace. It was old, and grimy, but the silver still gleamed through. “Take it.” Sir Duncan said as the knight thrust it into hunter’s hand. “It was Laura’s she wanted him to have it if anything should happen.”
The door continued to hold as the banging noises continued from the street outside.
Hunter stared down at the small piece of jewellery. But in memory of his friend, he agreed to take it with him. “I’ll make sure it is left with him.”
“Go now.” Sir Duncan said and for the first time, a smile came across his face. It was a corpse smile, a smile of a man who knows he’s going to die.
Hunter only nodded and rushed up the stairs. As he did so, he heard the knight’s final words.
“Juliann. If you want to leave my service. I will not hold it against you.” Sir Duncan said, addressing the squire. Hunter didn’t hear the young boys reply over the thumping of the door, the wood starting to crack from the repeated assaults.
It didn’t take long for hunter to find the room. It wasn’t big, almost like a large cupboard. But right in the far corner he saw it. A crib with a sleeping baby boy inside.
Hunter turned back to the door and closed it, before tapping it with his wand. “Camfringue.”
At the words, the door turned into a solid brick wall, the same as the walls surrounding it. A crude spell, but the best he could do. A more powerful one would have the Witchfinders on them. All magic left a trace after all. That was what they had been taught since they were children. And that had been what had doomed his friends.
The camouflage spell would hold. But if anyone put any pressure on the door, then it would be broken. But it should be powerful enough for what he had to do.
“Hey there kid.” Hunter said as he strode over to the crib, and picked up the still sleeping baby. “We’re going to go on an adventure.”
Then he heard a large crashing sound from downstairs. The from door had finally given way.
“Where is he, Duncan?” A voice said, probably the same that had been ordering the door open in the first place. Hunter did not move. The original plan had been to just leave. But now he’d be forced to teleport out of here. Powerful magic that would be detected and would not be masked by the camouflage spell.
But then, the baby started to wake up and looked around.
“Here you go kid.” Hunter said, producing a simple sleeping draught. It could be dangerous to use it on someone so young. But the other option being that he started screaming, which would be deadly for him.
“What is the meaning of this!” Sir Duncan shouted and hunter could almost see it, the knight standing alone against the people that had invaded his home. “I am a knight of Eogliagarth. And you will put some respect on my name!”
“Kill the boy. Then he’ll talk.” The Intruder said. There was the sounding of something hitting the ground, hard, followed by Sir Duncan howls of rage. The men had killed his squire, Hunter knew.
The sounds of s a brief scuffle could be heard, but were quickly silenced.
“Alright kid. It’s now or never.” Hunter said, and taking the almost certain orphan tightly in his arms. He vanished from the room, travelling through the void-world, re-materialising back outside the city. Where his Griffin waited.
The bells were now sounding from the city as Hunter, along with his still mercifully alive charge. They’d broken through his decoy wall, and he no longer had time on his side. The Witchfinders would track his teleportation spell in no time at all.
He still had one advantage though.
The Griffin stood waiting for him, pouring the ground with its clawed feet at the sound of the bells.
“Alright girl.” Hunter said as he approached, bowing as deeply as he could whilst still keeping a firm grip on the sleeping baby.
The Griffin eyed him for a second, then returned the bow. Allowing Hunter to clamber onto a crude saddle that he hadn’t had time to test. He just hoped that the work of Hearthfast the Dwarf’s work was as good as he boasted it to be.
“Harthpoint girl. As you fly.” Hunter said, whispering into the Griffin’s ear.
The bells continued to sound. But hunter no longer cared. The Griffin at the verbal destination had begun to ascend into the sky, beating her wings with a fury that Hunter had never witnessed from the creature.
He wanted nothing more than to sleep. He would have slept, if not for his charge. One gust of wind. One scent of an attack. And the boy would be dead long before he hit the ground. So, Hunter resolved to stay awake, with the promise of sleep when this was all done.
The Griffin continued to fly, passing over woodlands and rivers, over a small mountain range, and a large unnatural looking ravine below.
That was when he saw it. A cliffside town, the waves crashing against the white cliffs. He had arrived. Hunter smiled, the fear of being caught gone for the first time during this quest.
Driving the Griffin into a descent, Hunter watched as the small town that was his ultimate meet up with The Magi, came closer and closer, the lights from the occupied windows becoming brighter and brighter.
“Easy girl.” Hunter said as he gently touched the Griffin’s long neck.
The animal continued to rear as it descended and eventually landed on the ground, reminding Hunter of the fact that the Griffin was its own creature, and did as it wanted. But slowly, and with much encouragement, the Griffin landed on the outskirts of the town.
“There, girl. You can go back now.” Hunter said as he slid of the back of the Griffin, hoping that the creature would understand where home was. “Hearthfast will be waiting for you.”
The Griffin looked at him, then with beat its wings and began to ascend back into the pitch-black sky. He hoped that the Griffin would be okay. He’d only just saved her from the animal traders and didn’t want for her to fall back into their clutches.
He watched for a few more moments, then, making sure that the charge was safely in his arms, he walked towards the small town.
Hunter strode through the town’s single main road. The bundle of blankets resting in his arms. He turned in every direction; every narrow street, every derelict building could be hiding his pursuers. Even in a town that had been chosen by The Magi for being far away from anything and anyone important, that fact remained true.
As he rounded a building that he guessed was the town forge, a familiar voice called out to him in his mind.
“At last Charles.”
Hunter span around, looking for the source of the voice, he knew who it was, now it was just a question of finding the old man.
After several seconds of searching dark alleys, he located him.
Tall and thin, with a short grey beard, and oceanic eyes. The Magi stood by a collection of ruins that Hunter guessed used to be the town’s slums.
“Magi.” Hunter said, only these words were verbal, and hoarse from lack of use.
“No problems I trust, Charles?” The Magi said, this time completely audibly and stepping fully into the light. The old man was completely alone. Hunter thought that he’d have brought someone with him, normally he was not seen out of the company of Barrows or Thothson. But not this time. This time he was alone, and looking more like the old man that he was.
“None, sir. Lad’s been asleep most of the flight ‘ere. I doubt he even knows that he’s been moved at all.” Hunter said.
The Magi leant forwards, getting a better look at the sleeping boy.
“No magic we use tonight will be detected my friend. I made sure of that before I set off.” The Magi said as he gazed into the blankets. Then he straightened up. “Well. We better get it over with.” The Magi said mournfully, and taking the small bundle, he walked over to what was clearly the inn in the town. If the other buildings had been shabby, this was practically in ruins. Ivy grew up all the walls, the roof had caved in on the right-hand side, and most of the windows were broken, the ones that weren’t were boarded up to keep in what little warmth the dwelling offered. A small peeling and rusty sign that read: ‘THE BLACK SHEEP’, hung from the roof.
“Are we doing the right thing here sir?” Hunter asked, hardly daring to believe that he was questioning the old man’s orders. But they had to be done. The Magi was a great man everyone knew, but this decision seemed so out there, so crazy, that even loyal old Charles was beginning to question its chances of success. “Leaving him in such a place, with The Witchfinders surely after him.”
“Yes.” The Magi said as he reached the door, though Hunter was able to detect that The Magi didn’t sound so sure as he’d made out to the council. “This boy will be hunted for the rest of his life if he were to be placed anywhere else. At least here, he will be far enough away from Sir Hugh’s wrath. At least until he is ready.”
The Magi sighed deeply, then knocked three times on the wooden door.
The sound of movement that had been coming from the inn, stopped abruptly. Then the door opened before them.
A tall, bearded man stood before the two sorcerers, behind him, an equally tall and bony woman lingered in the one of only two rooms the small building had.
“Good evening. You are Mr Edward Shephard, I presume?” The Magi said looking at the man like he was the weirdest creature he’d ever seen, not dangerous, just amusing.
“That’s right.” Edward said crossing his muscular arms, and watching both the newcomers with suspicion.
“Good. Good.” The Magi said as he stood tapping his foot calmly on the cobbled street. “Shall we assume that you’ve invited us into your fine dining room. I fear it is unwise to linger on the street, even in place as remote as this.”
Hunter stood back, watching as he always did whenever The Magi took the lead. He had no doubt that they could easily best this brute if he dared to attack them. But the old man had commanded that this be a bloodless encounter, so Hunter waited, and watched, not happy with the situation at all.
“It is, too quiet for even the birds.” Edward said gruffly.
“Yes. But they are still there.” The Magi responded in the same tone of voice. “Clawing. Burning.”
Hunter watched the conversation, the man, he surmised, was one of their former agents, a network that had been established months before their kind’s fall from grace. And thus, these two people, like them, had no love for the Witchfinders. Maybe the old man’s plan wasn’t as crazy as it seemed.
Edward Shepard stepped aside, and allowed both The Magi, and Hunter to enter his small inn.
The inside of the Inn was just as crude as the outside, a few tables littered the cold stone floor, a bar area was covered in dust, the consequences of buying an Inn in this place, the furthest that civilisation reached.
There were no Patrons. The Magi had seen to that earlier in the day. Not that the couple knew anything about that; all their customers had simply just decided that they would want to go somewhere else tonight.
“My wife, Isla.” Edward said indicated the tall, thin woman standing next to a small table.
“Charmed.” The Magi said and giving a short bow.
“Is that him then?” Edward said looking at the small bundle of blankets.
“It is.” The Magi said, as he laid the bundle down onto the table. “You are aware of the dangers I trust?”
“We are.” Edward said as his wife took the small sleeping boy in her arms.
“The fee remains the same. Two thousand silver marks a year until the boy turns fourteen.” The Magi said, withdrawing from his robes a pouch filled to the brim with small silver coins. “At that point, we will come back and collect him.”
“Why that age?” Isla asked.
“It was the age at which his mother started showing the gifts.” The Magi replied calmly, slowly sitting himself down on one of the two chairs. “There is little reason for the boy to show them earlier. It rarely happens that way.”
“And if he isn’t a freak?” Edward spat, clearly not happy that The Magi had taken a seat in his home.
“Well in that unlikely event, he will have to make his own path.” The Magi replied, a lot more calmly than Hunter would have done. But there was a firmness to the old man’s reply that hadn’t been there before.
The words though were a reminder of the realities of the situation. That whilst these people had no love for the Witchfinders. They were also only slightly less hostile to them. And the clattering coins on the table were the only reason that the alarm hadn’t been sounded.
And with that, The Magi got up from the chair and extended out an arm that neither of the Shepards’ took.
“We will be keeping an eye on the boy from afar. So, if anything happens. Well, I think you know.” Hunter said gruffly, and not as successfully at hiding his hatred for these two than his boss. Then he remembered his promise, and took from his pocket, the small silver necklace. With a grunt, he placed it on the table. “This isn’t yours. It’s his.” Hunter said pointing at the small bundle of blankets. “A last gift from his parents.”
“Of course.” Edward spoke as he gazed at the item on his table.
He wasn’t the only one either.
The Magi had also noticed the necklace for a moment too long, curiosity etched into his lined face. But he managed to recover himself and turning he walked up to where the boy was sleeping.
“Good luck, William Sharp.” The Magi murmured, as Hunter vanished from the room in the blink of an eye. Then the old man, tipped his hat at the startled couple, turned on his heel, and he was gone.
The wind picked up at the disappearances of the two sorcerers. And as the wooden frames on the broken windows clattered around, William Sharp turned inside the bundle without waking.
The Shepherds had been told that they would be back in just under fourteen years. They were wrong.
They were back in twelve.