The Malicarn #2
The rest of the day’s travel was uneventful.
Dusk was settling over the Old Village when they finally arrived.
Kellington, who had been sneaking cups out of the new barrels throughout the afternoon ride, began sharing his dislike of the Old Village well before their arrival.
When they finally neared its walls he wound himself up into a sputtering hailstorm of invective.
“Just the worst kind of backward people. No ambition. No foresight. Ever since Kingstown was erected you’d think they’d want to try to improve themselves.
But no, just a bunch of wastrels sad that they are no longer the center of attention.
Well, you want something, you have to work for it.
No one here knows that. Just drunks and layabouts now.
The marketplace is barely worth the name as such.
No respectable farmer comes here anymore.
And you know whose fault it all is? That wizard, I tell you.
Now I know, Hannah, he’s mentored you, but you’re nearly a woman now and you need to see: Nothing good’s come of him since before your father died.
He’s never brought anything but sadness into this kingdom, and the root of it is right here in this rot: the Old Village.
The place does not even have a proper name! ”
“Sir Kellington,” Hannah said, “I do not believe the Old Village is as changed from the days of my father as you suppose, but of course you do have much more experience than me, being nearly nineteen years old.”
Kellington blushed and continued muttering under his breath as the retinue passed through the main gate and down a street toward the village square.
Hannah admitted that Kellington at least had a point.
Unlike Kingstown, where buildings were big and tall and new, and everyone worked at a frantic pace, walking hastily at all times, in the Old Village the buildings were low, sad, disheveled, poorly painted.
Villagers ambled slowly through the streets and around the square.
And there were many fewer of them than in Kingstown.
The roads also felt very straight, a fact Hannah was struck anew by on each visit.
Every building was placed exactly where it apparently needed to be, as if the whole village had risen up at once with no mistakes or changes along the way and then been left there until it became shabby.
It made the place feel oddly small, even as it stretched over half a mile from end to end.
It looked like a town built as practice, a child’s play set.
They crossed through the main square and approached the door of the large black tower of Gregorian himself. Kellington slammed down hard on the metal door knocker, and a small woman opened the door.
“Please tell the wizard that the queen is here and we would like room and board for the evening.”
The woman said nothing and closed the door. Hannah watched from out of the window of the carriage as Kellington paced back and forth. When the door reopened a few minutes later, the woman looked past Kellington.
“The queen may enter for the night. There is no room for others. You must stay at the inn.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“It is all right, Kellington,” said Hannah, climbing out of the carriage. “You and the guard will relax easier at the inn anyway.” She approached the old woman. “Can these men arrange to have my trunk and items carried in at least?”
She consented, and a few minutes later Hannah’s belongings were inside and the guards rode off with the stablemaster and carriage toward the stables.
Inside the tower, Hannah was led up a narrow stair to a small, dark room.
A fire burned in the hearth, before which sat a pair of large, worn chairs.
The old woman gestured to them. Hannah sat in the closer one, but when she turned to speak to the woman she was gone.
The room felt damp, like a cave, and cold.
On the few occasions when she would travel to the Old Village and see Gregorian, Hannah was usually sent to the library on the lower level.
Her guard would stay in the tower on those trips, too, but now she was alone, watching the fire and the blank walls and wondering if coming had been a mistake.
“Rather far from the castle tonight, eh, Hannah?” The familiar mellow voice rang from the doorway, and Hannah turned to see Gregorian leaning against a wall, suddenly materialized from the air.
His white beard and thinning hair were unkempt, as if he had already been sleeping.
The wrinkles around his eyes were pronounced, and as Hannah went to rise, Gregorian yawned, waving at her to sit back down.
Gregorian collapsed into the chair next to her.
He had visited the castle several times since she spoke to him about the dragon rider, and he looked more tired every time.
“Usually Sanderson tells me well ahead of time when you’re coming,” Gregorian said. “Did he misplace his page again?”
Hannah laughed. “No, they wanted me to go to the Mountain Keep to get away from the mobs. It has been bad in Kingstown recently.”
“Hm.” Gregorian nodded slowly. “We should have a drink.” He rang a bell, and the old woman quickly appeared back in the doorway. “Two ales, for the queen and myself,” Gregorian said, and she vanished again.
“We were meant to take the road to the Dollories Monastery. But I diverted our route, hoping to see you.”
“The monastery is indeed quite a bore.”
“I am hopeful for counsel,” Hannah said.
“Sanderson and Quentin are quite good with that too.”
“I am not always so sure.”
Gregorian laughed. “Is this about the mobs? I promise, you are safe.”
“Actually, I was hoping to speak about the dragon.”
“Again? Hannah, I told you, there is nothing to worry about. The dragon is dead and the common folk will forget about it soon enough.”
“What about the dragon rider?”
“What?”
“There is a rumor that the dragon rider lives. The commoners believe it. Surely you’ve heard.”
Gregorian sat quietly for a long moment. The servant woman returned with two pints of ale, and Gregorian picked up his and took a very long drink.
“I do know something about that,” he said after the servant left. “But it is not what you think. And it’s one of those things I cannot really provide any clarity on.”
“Why? Is it the same reason you told Kreek I was sneaking out of the castle to see the dragon corpse? I know it was you.”
“Oddly enough, Hannah, that wasn’t me. Believe me or not, that’s the truth.”
Hannah sighed. There was simply no hope of anybody ever treating her like a queen.
Sanderson and Quentin were fools, maybe, but where they controlled Hannah out of self-interest and ignorance, Gregorian was doing something else.
He wasn’t manipulating her, not exactly.
But he was up to something, thinking about something, that Hannah just couldn’t get a clear sense of.
She lifted her poor leg and propped it up on the table, rubbing it as she took a sip of the ale.
“It is very bubbly,” Hannah said.
Gregorian watched her leg. “Is it hurting?”
“Oh? Well, after a long day of riding, yes. Especially in a carriage. It is not a smooth journey.”
Gregorian reached into his vest and took out two small white items, slightly larger than crumbs. “Swallow these. They will help you feel better. Just drink them back with your ale. Swallow as if they aren’t even there.”
Hannah put the white nuggets in her mouth and took a large gulp of her drink. She felt them go down her throat and coughed.
“Sorry,” Gregorian said. “It is not always pleasant.”
“I thought healing was not your expertise.”
“Well, maybe I know a little bit.”
Hannah took another sip. “Gregorian, why is magic banned? I want to know the real answer. You have hinted at it before.”
“You have heard the story. After the Necromancer killed your father, I met with him and we came to an agreement. No magic if he left the Malicarn alone.”
“Yes, I have heard that story. But it does not make sense. Why would he care about the Malicarn having magic? Did he not want to capture the Malicarn?”
Gregorian chuckled. “Yes, it is not a very good story.”
“So it is not the truth?”
“It is a kind of truth.”
“I will be of age soon, Gregorian, and I know there is much that I do not yet understand, but I think for the good of the realm I should learn more. Maybe the dragon means nothing, but people sure think it does. I can’t lead them if I don’t understand.”
He leaned toward the fire, picking up a poker leaning against the hearth, and pushed a few of the logs around. One fire-licked log cracked open, the inside glowing orange, and the flames danced around the newly exposed wood.
“What did old Fennick teach you about fire?” Gregorian asked.
“He said it was ‘the devil trying to escape, and so we must be vigilant over it always.’ He did not elaborate further.”
“Did you tell him what I told you about fire?”
“That it was a reaction of the materials within, transforming solid matter to energy, which gives off heat?”
“Precisely.”
“I told him and he just said that was some wizard nonsense.”
Gregorian stood up and walked to the corner. He looked up at one dark spot on the wall and stared at it for a long time. Then he turned toward Hannah.
“Quentin, Sanderson, even Fennick—they are not bad men. I need you to understand that. They truly do have your best interests at heart. But I do not speak nonsense, Hannah. I promise you. There is much for you to know, but it is beyond my powers to teach you everything. I cannot explain why—” He looked at the dark spot on the wall again.
“—only you must believe that I am intent on protecting you and your rule. Soon, maybe, I can tell you more.”
“The unrest, at least?” asked Hannah. “Surely you can help with that?”
“The anger of the common folk is not something you should worry about.”
“Of course I should. I am their queen.”